


We Will Always Be Death Defying

by Likesummerrainn



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Reincarnation, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-01-17 04:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likesummerrainn/pseuds/Likesummerrainn
Summary: The Losers are back together, but no one knows how.Eddie Kaspbrak and Stanley Uris get a second chance at life, but what's the catch?
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 29
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck Canon.  
Everyone lives.

There are moments clearly marked in our memories as a set beginning or a definite ending. We remember these moments by how they made us feel, and how that feeling has carried over all these years later. 

Some memories fade, their feelings attached as they leave us behind. 

And then there are moments that we cannot recall where they began or where they ended. 

Those memories live longer within us, they become a part of us, and we accept them as permanent parts of ourselves.

Richie Tozier could not remember how this moment started, or where it ended, except with the man at his front door, in broad daylight. A ghost staring back at him, with a smile that scared him, but somehow brought him comfort, too. 

“Hey Rich.” 

Richie screamed, slamming the door shut on the man’s face. Slumping against it, arms spread out as if to keep it shut, he sank to the floor. His heart beat so fast it threatened to jump right out of his chest. Looking around frantically he reached for his phone. 

11:09 am. Saturday, the 12th. 

Three weeks since…

Since… 

Another knock at the door. 

Richie shut his eyes, 

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” he chanted to himself. 

“Rich?” 

_ No no no no no no no no no no- _

“Richie, come on man.” 

He took a shaky breath, slowly lifting himself up off the ground. He kept his eyes shut, and slowly opened the door again. 

“Don’t shut the door on my face again, man, that’s not cool.” 

Richie opened his eyes, and clear as day, there he stood. 

“Eddie?” 

His voice cracked over his name. It was a mixture of confusion and fear and dread. 

Eddie smiled and shrugged, 

“Hey,” he said. 

Richie looked him up and down. He wore the same clothes from that day. The bandage still on his cheek, and a dark stain on his shirt in the very spot he’d…

He had been…

“No,” Richie said, looking back up at him. “No this...this isn’t...no,” he repeated. 

“I know this is crazy, and I know what you’re thinking but please, hear me out, this is real, Rich, it’s me, please.” 

Eddie took one step towards him and Richie jumped back. 

The look on Eddie’s face was quick, gone in a split second, but Richie knew what it was. 

Hurt. 

“How?” he breathed out. Eddie only shrugged. 

“I don’t know.” 

“When?” he asked. 

“I...don’t know.” 

“How did you find me?” he asked. 

“I...just knew?” he said, unsure of himself. 

“This isn’t happening,” Richie whispered to himself. 

“Richie please,” Eddie said quietly. 

Richie’s phone buzzed in his pocket and sent a shock through him. He closed his eyes again, reaching for it and picked up without looking, 

“Richie, are you okay?” 

Mike’s voice rang through, worried and rushed, 

“Hey Mike,” he said. He opened one eye, Eddie still standing there outside, watching him with a worried expression. 

“Are you okay?” he asked again. 

“Sure,” he said, his voice strained. 

“Something’s happening. Are...where are you?” he asked. 

“In New York,” he said. “And...uh,” he swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say next. “Eddie’s here, too, Mike,” he said. 

Mike’s line was silent, and for a moment Richie thought he’d lost him. 

“I thought that might happen,” he said quietly. Richie’s mouth hung open, staring at Eddie, phone still at his ear. 

“I’m coming to you,” Mike said. “I’ll be there soon. Keep Eddie there, please.” 

“Uh-huh,” he said, hanging up. 

“Mike’s on his way?” Eddie asked. 

“Yup,” he said. 

They stared at each other until Richie could feel his arm strain from his grip on the door. 

“How did you get here?” he asked, finally. 

“I wish I knew,” he said. 

“Come inside,” he finally said, stepping aside. Eddie hesitated, watching him closely, but Richie kept his eyes on the ground. 

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbled, stepping inside. Eddie looked around with great awe at his apartment, but Richie’s eyes only followed him. 

“Nice place,” he said, looking up. 

“What the fuck man,” Richie finally said. It caught both of them by surprise, it definitely wasn’t how Richie wanted to start but...he figured this was the only way. 

“I wish I knew,” he said. 

“You died!” Richie yelled. “In front of me! Like five inches from my face! You died!” 

Eddie shrugged, looking helpless. 

“Richie I wish I knew what happened but...I don’t remember anything. I remember going down the sewers...I remember..._ it _...but that’s all.” 

Richie now sat slumped on his couch, Eddie standing in front of him talking slower than he normally did, and that frightened Richie more than anything. 

“How...did you get out of Derry?” he asked, finally. 

He shrugged, 

“I woke up in the townhouse. My car was there when I left, my stuff was gone so that was annoying but I...I just drove out of there.” 

Richie thought back to the two suitcases that took both him and Ben to haul out of that townhouse and he could feel his arms ache again. 

A very grim thought crossed his mind. 

_ Stan… _

An even worse image came to mind and Richie physically shook his head to get rid of it.

“Richie?” Eddie’s voice cut off his thoughts, and he was slightly grateful for it. He rubbed his hands over his face, pushing his glasses up into his hair, 

“Yeah?” 

“What happened?” 

His heart broke at the question, how soft Eddie’s voice was, how childlike the fear in it was. 

“Where do you want me to start?” he asked, laughing darkly. 

“The sewers,” he said. 

Even Richie knew that was a bad idea, and thought as quickly as he could of ways to stall until Mike arrived. He looked at the time on his phone, 11:44 am. Mike’s call was almost half an hour ago, and hopefully he could keep Eddie until Mike got here.

***

By this time, Eddie had told him the story at least three times, not one word different in each retelling. Richie finally sighed and slumped back into the couch.

“Richie,” Eddie said, growing impatient. 

“Listen I...I don’t know what to say, Eddie. I watched you _ die _. I watched Neibolt get sucked into the ground and I…” 

He trailed off, not sure where to go with it. 

“I don’t remember any of that,” Eddie said, growing wide with surprise. “Neibolt got sucked into the ground? Like a sinkhole?” 

Richie’s head snapped up in surprise, 

“What?” he asked. 

Eddie shrugged, still standing in front of him,

“I...I don’t remember anything from that day,” he said. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked. 

“Uh….” His eyes darted around in thought, “You,” he finally answered. “You falling out of the deadlights.” 

“That’s it?” Richie asked. Eddie nodded. 

“But I think…” 

The knock at the door cut him off, and Richie was grateful for it. 

“It’s open,” Richie called out defeatedly. 

Mike burst through the door, eyes falling immediately on Eddie. His mouth hung open in a mixture of disbelief and horror. 

The three said nothing. Eddie only waved.

“Hey Mike,” he said quietly. 

“Eddie,” Mike said, out of breath. 

Mike was fast, crossing the space between the threshold and the living room in a few long strides. 

“Eddie!” Mike exclaimed, hugging him tight.

“Whoa-hey there, good to see you, too, man,” Eddie said, almost knocked off balance by Mike’s force. 

“You’re freezing,” Mike noted, pulling back from him. His hands were still on Eddie’s shoulders as he looked him up and down.

“I’ve been freezing since I woke up,” he said. 

Mike turned to look at Richie but he only shrugged. 

“When did you wake up, Eddie?” he asked, seriously. 

“This morning. In the townhouse.”

“And what do you remember?” he asked. 

“We just got to that part,” Richie said. He sunk back into the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “Pull up a seat.” 

“I remember Richie falling out of the deadlights and nothing after that,” Eddie said quickly. 

Mike turned to look back at Richie, trying to say something with his eyes, but Richie just stared back at him. 

“I got a call from Patty last night,” he said.

Mike didn’t continue, and both Richie and Eddie knew he didn’t need to. 

“Stan,” they said in unison. Mike nodded. 

“She came home from work yesterday and found Stan sitting in the living room reading a book.” 

Richie closed his eyes, the image was too vivid for him and he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“What’s going on, Mike?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t know, but we have to get going.” 

“Where?” Eddie asked. 

“Ben’s place, upstate. Bev and Bill are already there. Patty and Stan are meeting us there today.” He checked his watch. “They should be there in a few hours so we need to leave now.” 

Richie and Eddie looked at each other again, this time, there was a real fear in Eddie’s eyes and Richie’s stomach churned. 

He had a bad feeling about all of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group learns a little more about what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long chapter, but this is really the background stuff. It's a bridge to where I want to take the fic!

Their drive was silent. Richie had volunteered, he needed something to focus on while Mike and Eddie caught up. Gripping the steering wheel, he found, stopped his hands from shaking. 

They hadn’t stopped shaking since Eddie appeared this morning.

Bev was the first to run out the door and wrap Richie into a hug. Richie leaned into it and realized just how much he’d needed it. But it didn’t last long once her eyes landed on Eddie.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, still wrapped around Richie.

She pushed him aside, quite roughly, he thought, and stared.

“Eddie,” she breathed. 

Eddie nodded, 

“It’s me,” he said awkwardly. Bev ran to him with the same urgency she ran to Richie, but with more tears this time. 

“You’re freezing,” she mumbled into him. Eddie smiled, hugging her back, 

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Where’s everyone else?” Mike asked, joining them. 

“Bill’s inside, Ben went to pick up Patty and Stan from the airport,” she said. Though she’d pulled out of the hug, Bev held onto Eddie’s hands as tight as she could, her knuckles going white. 

“Eddie!” They all turned to the door where Bill bounded out, running at full speed towards Eddie. 

Richie’s eyes were on Eddie, watching the fear grow in his as Bill pulled him into a hug, knocking them both off balance. Bev stepped out of the way just in time but Bill caught himself, pulling Eddie back with him. 

“Hi Bill,” he said, his voice muffled by Bill’s embrace. 

“You’re back! You’re really back,” he said, breathlessly, “and you’re freezing!” 

“I’ve been getting that a lot,” he deadpanned. 

“So what the fuck is going on?” Richie asked loudly. 

Bev turned back to him, 

“We’re not sure,” she said. 

“But Stan’s back? From the dead? And so is Eddie?” he continued. 

Bev’s eyes were red from crying, Bill’s hand remained on Eddie’s shoulder, but he wouldn’t meet Richie’s eyes. Mike stared at the group waiting for someone to say something. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah I guess that’s what’s happening.” 

“Did you talk to him?” he asked. 

She nodded, biting her lip. 

“And?” 

“And?” she repeated. 

“What’d he say? What’d he sound like?” 

“He...sounded like Stan. Like what Stan is supposed to sound like?” 

“Did he remember any of us?” Bill asked. 

“Yeah,” she said. “He remembered and asked about every single one of us. He knew about Eddie’s death, too,” she added, turning back to him. 

“How?” Bill asked. 

All eyes were on Eddie now, 

“I remember seeing him,” he said, eyes glossed over in a sudden realization. 

“When?” Mike asked, walking up next to him. 

“Sometime after seeing Richie in the deadlights and before I woke up in the townhouse.” 

“What happened?” 

Bill and Mike stood on both sides of Eddie, and the back and forth of their questions was making Richie more nauseous than he already was. 

“I...I thought I was dreaming. I saw Stan, all grown up, sitting in that field we used to go to.” 

“What else?” 

“He told me we were home,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

It was at that same moment Ben’s car pulled into the driveway, the headlights blinding all of them. 

The air went cold and Richie knew they’d all stopped breathing. Waiting. 

First was Ben, hopping out quickly, opening the door for Patty who stepped uneasily onto the pavement. They followed her eyes, watching the door expectantly, holding out her hand. 

It was almost like something out of those old horror movies he used to watch. One, pale hand bursting through a grave, grabbing onto whoever stood too close. 

Richie felt like throwing up. 

Slowly, one, pale hand appeared from the door, taking hold of Patty’s. She smiled at him softly.

Stan got out of the car, keeping his eyes on Patty, and then turning to the rest of them. 

They all wanted to say something, to yell and shout, scream or cry, but it was as though all the air around them had been sucked away. 

Stan smiled at them. He dressed exactly the way Richie imagined he would, slacks with a dress shirt neatly tucked in, a cardigan buttoned up. It was so _ Stan _ that it made Richie smile. 

“Losers.” 

Stan’s voice was quiet, smooth, but filled with hesitation. 

They all breathed a collective sigh of relief, smiling at him. 

They weren’t sure what to do next. They wanted to hug him, but something kept them rooted in place. 

“Let’s get inside,” Ben finally said, guiding Patty and Stan towards the house. As they walked towards the others, each one stopped Stan to give him a hug. 

_ This should’ve happened weeks ago, _ Richie thought, _ Stan should’ve been there with everyone in the first place _. 

“Stan the Man,” Richie said quietly, earning a smile from him. 

“Hi Richie,” he said softly. 

Richie hugged him tight, patting him roughly on the back. 

Stan was just as cold as Eddie, he noted. 

“We missed you,” Richie mumbled into him. 

“I missed you too, buddy,” he replied. 

He let Stan and Patty walk ahead of him and waited until Eddie was by his side. 

“So,” Eddie said quietly, 

Richie looked at him, eyes softening, but his smile fading. Eddie frowned, he knew what was going through his mind, there was no doubt about it. 

“Let’s go inside,” Eddie said, one hand on the small of Richie’s back, guiding him forward. 

***

“I don’t get it,” Bill said, rubbing his eyes. 

“We just got done with this thing and now it’s coming back?” Ben added. 

“This isn’t _ It _,” Bev said. 

The group turned to look at her. Sitting out in Ben’s backyard around the firepit--and what a backyard it was, Richie couldn’t help but admire. Of course Ben’s house was the most beautiful house he’d ever seen. They all had drinks in front of them, blankets wrapped around them, wearing the same looks they wore not too long ago. 

The sun was setting behind them, casting a golden tint over everything around them. Beverly’s hair seemed to burn brighter, the ring on her hand that covered Ben’s certainly glared at all of them, Richie thought, sitting across from him. 

Stan and Patty sat with them, Patty’s face white with fear and confusion, contrasted by Stan’s face deep in thought. 

“So,” Stan started. They all looked visibly shaken, still not used to hearing his voice, “all you guys had to do was...bully the thing to death?” 

It lightened the mood, for sure, all of them laughing at the thought. It was a ridiculous way to put it, if not completely accurate. 

“Yeah pretty much,” she said. 

Stan kept his head down, rubbing his hands together nervously. He cracked a small smile and suddenly the rest of them relaxed. It didn’t take long for Stan’s small smile to transform into full fledged laughter, and it took even less time for the rest of them to follow suit. 

For a moment, the world fell away, their worries disappeared, and all the stress, worry, anxiety had vanished. To any outsider, this was a group of friends enjoying the last of summer's light. 

To them, it was their wildest dreams come back to life. 

“If that’s all we had to do we could’ve taken care of it thirty years ago,” Stan finally said, running a hand through his hair. 

“And you could’ve done it alone, too,” Richie replied. 

“Stan would’ve done it in five minutes tops,” Ben said, ruffling his hair. Stan swatted his hand away, the rest of them laughing. Beside him, Richie could feel Eddie tense up. From the corner of his eye he could see his smile fall. 

“So,” Mike started, clearing his throat. “Where do we start?” 

They all looked between Stan and Eddie. Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, casting his eyes down, jaw clenched. Stan cleared his throat,

“Where do you want us to start?” Stan asked. 

“The scars,” Bill said, looking straight at Stan. 

Stan inhaled sharply, looking at his hands. 

“From our oath,” Bill continued. “You too, Eddie.” 

Eddie and Stan both put their hands up, the scars on their palms gone, now. But there was a long scar on Stan’s wrist, hidden slightly by his watch strap, and they all knew what it was. It looked like an old scar, one that had healed a long time ago. Richie looked to Eddie, staring at his torso where he knew a scar should be, but he was too afraid to ask. 

“Is it real, then?” Bill asked, turning to Mike. 

“If those scars disappeared, then I think it is.” 

“And we know Pennywise is gone for good, so, it has to mean things are going back to normal, right?” Bev asked. 

Mike nodded, 

“We can only hope so,” he said. 

The group was quiet again. Stan rubbed his wrist nervously, only stopping when Patty put her hand on top of his. 

Then Mike spoke up again, 

“What about when you woke up?” he asked. 

Stan took a deep, but shaky breath. He rested a hand on Patty’s next to her, but hers was shaking, too. 

“I, uh...I woke up in the bathtub, freezing cold. I remember blood but it’d disappeared when I woke up. It’s like, um, it was like a hard reset to the moment right before I…” he trailed off. His grip on Patty’s hand tightened. “When Mike called me, all those memories came back to me, and when I woke up, they were still there. I’d seen all of us, grown up, sitting in that field again.” 

Beside Richie, Eddie’s leg bounced anxiously. He wanted to reach out, to hold his hand, to reassure him he was okay, but something stopped him. 

“I saw Eddie and I knew he and I were both….” Stan stopped himself once again. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but they all knew what he meant. 

“I saw Eddie and we both knew something was happening, and we both knew that...we were coming back to you guys.” 

The group turned to Eddie. He cleared his throat, preparing himself, 

“I woke up in the townhouse. In my room, right after Bowers stabbed me? The scar,” he said, pointing to his face, “it was burning, like it had just happened? But I woke up on the bed and it was quiet, there was no one there. But, yeah what Stan said. I had a dream where I saw him and we both knew we were supposed to come back, like we were just waiting for each other to get there. Once I saw him, he said we were home and that’s when I woke up.” 

The group didn’t know what to make of the stories, they only sat and listened in shock. 

“The turtle,” Mike said suddenly, looking with a face of sudden realization.

The group turned to face him, all of them confused. 

Stan and Patty shared a look, but it seemed that only Richie noticed this.

“The Shokopiwah believe that there is a turtle that birthed the universe. Maturin. He gave life to everything, including It. They believe that Maturin can bring people back, too.” 

They all stared at him, mouths hanging open slightly. 

“Yeah and that’s where I draw the line,” Richie said. “Killer alien clown was hard enough to believe but I saw that thing with my own eyes so I’ll believe it, but a turtle god that created the universe? No, not happening.” 

The others murmured in agreement, and Mike sighed, 

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked. 

“Cause I’m done with this shit, man,” Richie said, exasperatedly. 

“We all are, Rich,” he said. 

“Stan, did you see some benevolent turtle overlord in your dream that brought you back to life?” Richie asked. 

Stan paused, like he was frozen in front of them and they all noticed this. A darkness had come over his face for a split second, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, before he smiled at them again.

“No,” he said. Patty’s face told a different story, but no one pressed her on this.

“Eddie?” Richie said, turning to him.

“No.” 

Richie turned back to Mike, 

“It’s just a theory,” Mike finally said. 

“So then what about...” Bill said, trailing off. He started to say it, his stutter stopping him at the first letter. They could see him stop himself, his eyes cast down, a few tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. 

They all knew what he was trying to say.

_ Georgie. _

And that was the strangest part of all of them being back together, their collective consciousness. They were back on the same wavelength, like they could read each other’s minds. 

“I’m so sorry, Bill,” Bev said, quietly. 

“Does that m-m-mean he’s...he’s…” He couldn’t finish this sentence either. 

There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, the thought that maybe Georgie was back, too. A sick, dark part of Richie’s mind had a feeling they weren’t that lucky. 

The turtle, if there even was one, wouldn’t be that forgiving.

“Have you felt anything different lately? Since we got back?” Bev asked. 

“Like what?” Bill asked. 

“When Stan came back, I’d been seeing him in my dreams for days before that,” Patty said. 

It was the first thing she’d since they started talking. They all looked to her, surprised. 

“I had a weird feeling on that day, too. Like a part of me knew he was back…” Stan squeezed her hand and Patty took a breath.

“I was seeing Eddie,” Richie said. The words came tumbling out of his mouth as though he had no control over it. His heart was beating so fast and loud in his chest, he thought he might pass out.

But he kept going, feeling Eddie’s eyes on him. 

“Like Patty said...I was seeing him in my dreams for a few days before and then, this morning…” 

They were all having trouble finishing their sentences today, and part of that was because none of them could believe what they were seeing right in front of them. Richie felt the same exhaustion weighing him down from the last time they were together, he felt the fear and confusion and anger all over again and it scared him. 

Bill’s jaw was clenched, and he wanted to say something, wanted to say yes, _ oh god _ did he want to say yes he _ had _felt something different since they got back from Derry.

But the truth was he hadn’t. 

He shook his head, a small tear running down his face. 

“No,” he said, his voice cracking. “I haven’t seen G-G-Georgie in years,” Bill whispered. Mike rested a hand on his shoulder, and Richie reached out a hand to his. He opened his mouth to continue, but said nothing. 

“So selective reincarnation,” Stan said, instead. 

“Sounds like it,” Mike said. “But I think it’s more complicated than that.”

“And none of us know why this is happening,” Stan continued. 

“Well,” Ben started, hesitantly, “maybe it’s about balance.” 

The group looked to him, each one silently processing the comment.

“Balance?” Eddie asked. 

Ben shrugged, slightly embarrassed, but continued nonetheless, 

“Yeah, I mean like, balance in the universe. Pennywise killed to keep itself alive, so once we killed it, the ones it killed are returned? Balance restored to the universe?”

“I mean, it kinda sounds like what Mike was talking about back then,” Richie said. 

“And maybe it really does have something to do with a turtle?” Ben asked. Richie groaned loudly and dramatically. “I just said _ maybe _, Richie,” Ben defended, looking at him. 

But something gnawed at Richie, even while they talked about the turtle. 

“Richie, you know something we don’t,” Mike said, almost accusatory.

Richie gaped at him, but Bev kept her eyes on him.

They stared at each other, a silent connection pulling them away from the conversation. 

“The deadlights,” Bev whispered. All eyes were on her this time. 

“What do you mean?” Stan asked. 

“When we were kids, I got caught in the deadlights and...I saw us as adults.” She turned to Richie, “And when we went back, Richie...you got caught in them, too.” 

“You got caught in the deadlights?” Stan asked, surprised. For whatever reason, Richie looked to Patty first, watching her face for something he wasn’t quite sure of. She kept her eyes on Stan, though, waiting for them to explain. 

“Yeah,” Richie finally said. “But...I don’t remember…”

A terrible pain rose in his head, forcing him to close his eyes. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the bright lights shining around him, gripping him tight, high above the rest of them. 

He saw the seven of them standing in a circle by the quarry. There was a light surrounding both Stan and Eddie. The wound on Eddie’s face gone, both of them looked cleaned up. 

They all did, for that matter. They were all clean and pristine, standing around talking, smiling. 

“_ We’re home, _” Eddie had said, looking directly at Richie. 

His eyes snapped open, looking at Beverly, an understanding look on her face. She nodded at him. He nodded back, assuringly, 

“I don’t remember what I saw in the deadlights,” he said. 

“I had nightmares every night until we came back to Derry,” Bev started. 

“Mine weren’t nightmares, they were like...visions? Like I said, I kept seeing Eddie and the rest of us in that field.” They were all quiet and Richie knew he needed to fill that silence. “It feels like _ It _ again,” Richie said. “Like...it’s a message to us.” 

“Why do you say that?” Stan asked. 

Richie shrugged, 

“It feels too...too convenient.” 

Beside him, Eddie took a sharp breath. Richie knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut, but it was too late, now. From the corner of his eye, he watched Eddie, waiting for something--_ anything _\--from him. But nothing came. Eddie remained silent and Richie took it as his cue to stop talking, too.

“Then we’re gonna have to figure out what it means,” Mike said, solemnly. 

Richie got a very bad feeling from that. A part of him knew it meant going back, what else could they do to figure out what was going on? This had all started in Derry, and apparently fate thought it was funny enough for their lives to continue revolving around that hell hole of a town.

“So does that mean that B-B-Ben is right?” Bill asked, pulling Richie out of his thoughts. “About balance?” 

Ben’s cheeks grew bright red, and he looked down, Bev pinched his cheeks, looking proudly at him. 

“Ben’s usually right about these things, so yeah, he probably is,” Mike said, smiling. 

Now it was Stan’s turn to ruffle Ben’s hair in pride. The scene felt too normal, and as much as Richie wanted to enjoy the moment, to ignore everything that brought them to this, he couldn’t shake it. His mind was still stuck in those sewers, in Derry, and the image of Eddie’s final moments revolved in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shake them.

But when he turned to Eddie to speak, he stopped himself. The smile on Eddie’s face shone brighter than he had remembered it. He was laughing, cracking jokes along with the rest of the group. It had taken no time at all for him to fall back in with them. 

He had softened. There was no other word he could think of that worked. His jaw unclenched, brows no longer furrowed, and his smile had replaced the pursed and thoughtful look had been replaced with happiness.

So Richie decided not to say anything for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think, I appreciate any and all feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think Jade of the Orient scene but...  
better.  
And no creepy fortune cookies.

“Dinner!” Ben called to them, but at this point they were all huddled around each other, sharing photos, stories, memories, and everything in between. 

The Losers Club had come home to each other. 

Together, they stumbled back inside, blankets still wrapped around them, grateful for the warmth in the house, heading straight for the boxes of pizza and cases of beer set on the kitchen island. 

Richie kept his eyes on Stan and Eddie, thinking back to the horror stories he used to read as a teenager. Those who return from the dead don’t eat, they don’t drink. So far, the only thing that checked out from those stories were the fact that the undead were always cold, and they could not remember how they died or came back to life. 

But the food thing, it turned out, was wrong. Both Stan and Eddie ate and drank like nothing was different and it put Richie’s mind at ease. 

“What’s going on with you, tonight, Tozier?” Bev asked, taking a seat next to him. Though the group all sat together Bev and Richie took seats at the table away from the rest of them, watching them. 

“Nothing,” he said, smiling, holding his drink up to her. She tapped her bottle against his, but frowned at him.

“It doesn’t feel right, does it?” she continued, watching Stan and Eddie. 

“It feels so fucking weird,” Richie said, exhaling so hard he slumped down next to her. 

“But they’re back, and that’s a miracle,” she said. 

“I know, and it makes me feel awful that I’m not just...accepting it. That the entire time we’ve been here, I’ve been staring at Eddie and waiting for all of this to just disappear until I wake up and realize it was a dream,” he said. Bev wrapped an arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I know, Richie,” she whispered, “but maybe this time...we get the happy ending, no strings attached.” 

Richie closed his eyes, resting his cheek on top of her head, 

“God I hope you’re right,” he mumbled. 

Richie opened his eyes and followed Patty, for a change. He watched as she mingled with the rest of the group with ease, sticking close to Stan’s side, always one hand on him somewhere, resting on his shoulder, set on the small of his back, or just holding his hand.

He realized that she wore the same look as he had all day. Watching Stan with such a close eye, as though he might vanish right in front of her. Keeping one hand on him was her way to assure herself that he was real, that this was all real and they were going to be okay. 

His heart broke for her. 

“She’s tougher than I realized,” Richie said. He could feel Bev’s head bobbing up and down in agreement, 

“We got our memories back and we freaked out and nearly ran away from each other. She’s hearing it all for the first time and she hasn’t so much as flinched,” she said. 

“He’s a lucky man,” he said. 

“You two sick of us already?” Eddie called to them. Richie’s heart jumped at the sight of him smiling, teasing them again. 

It was the kind of feeling he’d craved for so long, one he’d denied himself from wanting, the feeling he almost got before it was ripped away. And now it was right here in front of him, and it took every ounce of will power to fight off every bad thought he was having right now. 

“Never takes long with you guys,” Bev said, not moving from her spot. Ben slid their plates over to them, adding a small wink in for Bev. Richie winked back at him, adding in an air kiss for good measure. Ben laughed and blushed only slightly. Richie was proud of that. 

“How’re you doing?” Richie asked, for a change. She knew what he meant. 

They all wanted to ask, but no one could find the right moment, given everything else they had to deal with at present.. 

Her divorce had gone public, and her ex husband wasn’t making things easy for her. 

Bev’s smile faltered, but in true Beverly Marsh fashion, it came right back up. 

“Good,” she said. She looked back at Ben, telling stories to Stan and she smiled, “We’re good.” 

“I’m sorry, Bev,” he said. She rubbed her hand on his shoulder, “You want me to kill him for you?” 

She snorted, but Richie swore he saw her think it over quickly. 

“I think I’m good,” she said. 

“Cause I’ll do it, ya know,” he said, “they never suspect the comedian.” 

“You’d give yourself away before the cops could even find him,” she said. 

“Your lack of faith hurts me, Beverly,” he said, putting a hand over his heart.

Bev only rolled her eyes, 

“Have you talked to him, yet?” she asked. He shook his head, 

“We haven’t exactly had a minute alone yet,” he mumbled. 

“Don’t wait too long, Rich,” she said, quietly. 

He smiled, 

“I won’t, promise,” he said. “What about you and Ben? How’re you two doing?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. 

Bev looked at him for a moment, but decided not to push him on it. 

“We’re getting married,” Bev said quietly, playing with her plate. 

Richie snorted into his drink, 

“The ring kinda gave that away,” he said. She held it out so that only they could see it. A large, oval stone perched on top of a delicate gold band, it looked like it was meant just for her. “I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he said, finally.

“We’re just...waiting for all of this to...you know…” she said, trailing off. Richie nodded, smiling at her. 

“When’re you planning it?” he asked. 

“Next year,” she said. 

“Big traditional one or Elvis impersonator in vegas?” he asked. 

“Elvis impersonator, definitely,” she said, winking. 

“Well my Vegas shows end in January so I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it,” he said. 

Bev pinched his side, sending him jumping in his seat, 

“Ow!” 

“No jokes, Richie,” she scolded. “Not tonight, at least,” she added quietly. 

“Utmost apologies, my lady,” he said in the awful British accent that always got a laugh out of her. 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and pulled him back to the rest of the group with her, letting themselves enjoy their time together for a little bit longer. 

***

“No no, wait, I know  _ exactly  _ what Stan’s wedding looked like, I can picture it right now!” Richie yelled over the rest of them. “It was probably in a barn and his vows had something to do with birds and mating patterns or some shit like that. Let’s see, what else … ” Richie trailed off. 

“Nothing else,” Stan said. 

“No, there’s  _ definitely _ more. His vows were probably beautiful, but he must’ve thrown in one ‘fuck’ at JUST the right moment, right? To make all the grandparents gasp!” 

Patty nodded, watching him, 

“Said he was the ‘luckiest fucking man in this entire fucking world’,” she said. 

“ _ Two  _ ‘fucks’ in one sentence? Stanley, you rebel,” Richie joked. 

Stan winked at him, and Richie threw his head back in laughter. 

“Did he get wasted and dance to...god, what was that song?” Richie asked, snapping his fingers impatiently, “the one he played on repeat until we almost smashed his walkman over his head?” 

“Just Can’t Get Enough,” they all said in unison. 

Patty looked somewhat horrified, and Stan shook his head, 

“That’s the best song ever, guys,” he said. 

“Stan it’s probably the worst song ever,” Mike said. 

“He got drunk and danced with me to it. Twice.” Patty winced slightly, as she said it. 

“Twice?” Bev and Richie asked in unison. 

“What’s Stanley like drunk, anyways?” Bill asked. 

“Dancey,” Patty said. 

“Really?” Richie asked, a mix of horror and absolute joy on his face. 

Stan rolled his eyes, 

“Dancey and tells everyone how much he loves them,” she said. “There was a point where he wouldn’t let go of his grandmother, remember that?” 

“She pulled me aside the next day and told me that if I ever got drunk like that again she’d kill me,” he said, smiling fondly. 

“Oh my god,” Richie breathed, “and we  _ missed _ that?” he asked. 

Stan shrugged, 

“I don’t wanna know what it would’ve been like with you all there,” Stan said. 

“You’d have killed us all,” he said. 

Stan nodded. 

There was a pause, and Richie spoke again, 

“But was I right about the vows?” 

Stan and Patty looked at each other, laughing, the rest of the group whistling, clapping him on the back. 

“Those fucking birds,” Richie said. 

“Those fucking birds,” Stan repeated, raising his drink to Richie, who followed suit. 

“You know it’s a shame, the five of us?” Richie said, motioning at the group, “We would’ve given the best fucking speeches ever.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be sure to invite you to my next wedding,” Stan said sarcastically. Patty rolled her eyes, and Stan kissed her forehead. “Did she show you pictures? Is that why you know all this?” Stan asked, nodding at Patty.

Richie looked to Patty, mouth hanging open in awe, 

“Are there pictures of him drunk?” he asked, excitedly. 

“So many,” Patty said, matching his tone. 

“I need those,” he said. 

“Me too!” Bev added. 

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan muttered into his drink. Richie only flipped him off, 

“Love you, too, Staniel,” he shouted. 

They’d learned their stories, relearned their memories, and shared everything they could think of, scared that they might lose it if they didn’t say it right away. 

It led to a scene of total chaos, though that wasn’t unusual for them, but it was something they hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

They were stretched out in the living room, now. Richie lay on the floor beside Mike. Stan and Patty were curled up on the couch, opposite Ben and Beverly. Eddie sat on Richie’s other side, and Bill on the floor next to Stan. 

“So Benjamin,” Stan started, looking at him seriously. “What the fuck took you both so long?” 

Ben and Bev smiled at each other, 

“Long story,” Bev said. 

Stan snorted, 

“I thought the poem would’ve done the trick,” he said. 

“You knew about that?” Ben asked. 

“Ben, everyone knew about the poem,” he said. 

“I didn’t,” Bev said.

“You didn’t know that?” Stan asked. 

“I thought it was Bill,” she said. 

Stan snorted, his drink flying into his face, 

“Bill?” he asked in surprise. 

“What’s so funny about that?” Bill asked, innocently enough. 

“I mean, sure Bill is a good  _ writer _ , but…” Stan started.

“Debatable,” Patty mumbled,

Bill looked at her, shocked. Patty shrugged,

“You...you don’t like my books?” he asked. 

“Another conversation,” Stan said, patting his shoulder, “Bill’s a good writer, but he’s not a poet. There’s a big difference in that. And ‘january embers’? Bill  _ wishes _ he could write something like that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bill asked, growing annoyed. 

“It just means Ben knows how to write an ending,” Stan said, taking another sip of his drink. 

“Strong words for a guy who just came back to life,” Bill mumbled. 

“Still a better story than your last one,” Stan said. 

“You read it?” he asked, happily surprised. 

“Yeah and I wanted to kill myself the entire time,” Stan deadpanned. 

“Should’ve seen the movie,” Richie said. 

“That wasn’t my fault,” Bill said, quickly and defensively. 

“It was still your book,” Richie said.

Bill frowned, but the rest of them were laughing too hard. 

One thing death hadn’t changed was Stan’s sharp tongue. 

“Okay but if you knew it all along, why didn’t you say anything when she thought it was Bill? You would’ve saved me like, three decades worth of pining,” Ben said. 

“I thought you were gonna tell her?” he said, but it came out as more of a question. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Why not? You were the one with the crush,” he said. 

“What? You tell your crush you like them? To their face?” Richie asked, lifting his head only slightly. He could feel Eddie nudge him with his knee. 

“Yes,” Stan said, “that’s how I got married.” 

“Well none of us are married so, wrong crowd,” Richie said. 

“To be married,” Ben said, raising his and Bev’s hands up. She buried her face into his shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the smile that came over her.

“Divorced,” Bill said bleakly. 

“That doesn’t count, Bill,” Stan said. 

“I know,” Bill said quietly, staring at his drink. Mike patted him on the shoulder, consolingly, and Bill smiled at him.

“Wait,” Richie said, sitting up quickly. He stared at Eddie, but Eddie refused to make eye contact. 

“I know what you’re gonna say Richie but I--”

“You have a WIFE, Eddie!” Richie blurted out. He regretted it the instant he said it. He blamed it on how many drinks he’d had so far, but even Richie knew that was bullshit. The thought hadn’t left his mind since the drive over. 

The group was quiet. 

“Well I haven’t exactly had time to go and see her,” he mumbled, staring at the ground. 

“She’s in New York, though,” he said. 

Eddie nodded,

“What’re you gonna do?” Bev asked. 

“I...don’t know,” he said, exhaling deeply. 

“She had a funeral for you,” Bev said quietly. 

“I know. She’s had that plan in the case of an emergency since we got married.” 

“Richie was the one who told her,” Bev said. 

Eddie finally looked up at him, and now it was Richie’s turn to look at the ground. 

“You did?” he asked. His voice was quiet, and though Richie tried, he couldn’t detect any tone in it. It was completely blank, only the slightest bit of surprise there at the end. 

“Um, yeah, yeah I...I took your stuff to her. Your address was written on everything so, I figured she um, she should know.” 

Richie peeked up above his glasses, Eddie only nodded. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice even quieter now. 

“What’re you gonna do?” Richie asked. 

“I have to go see her,” he said. 

The mood in the room shifted, their laughter ceasing, and the air around them became heavy, making it harder to breathe. 

“Eddie listen-” 

“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Eddie said, looking away. “Stan was about to beat the shit outta Bill.” 

“No he wasn’t!” Bill defended. 

Stan took the hint, starting a new conversation about Bill’s books. The rest of them followed suit.

He’d managed to change the subject, but his tone didn’t. The rest of them laughed, their attention returning to Stan, except Richie’s. 

The mood returned to normal, little by little, but Richie and Eddie found themselves on the outside of the group once more, sitting next to each other, the questions of their reality left hanging over them like a thick, dark storm cloud. 

Richie’s heart beat faster, but he took the risk he’d stopped himself from taking all those years. 

Slowly, he moved his hand closer to Eddies. 

It sat there for a moment--an eternity, it felt like--by itself. He cursed himself, told himself over and over to get a  _ grip, Richie _ , this wasn’t the time or the place. 

But Eddie surprised him, too, and let his hand rest over Richie’s. 

It was a start.

***

If he closed his eyes long enough, he could drown out the other voices with the sound of silence. 

If he focused enough, he could be at peace in under ten seconds. 

But no matter how hard he tried, there was a sharp ringing in his ears that made it impossible to think. 

The harder he tried, the more it felt like thousands of voices talking at once in the back of his mind. 

“How’s it feel?” 

Eddie’s eyes snapped open and turned to see Ben standing at the balcony door, looking up at the night sky. 

“A lot better out here,” Eddie said. “It’s a really nice place, Ben.” 

“Thanks,” he said, walking up to him. “Feels a lot better with you guys around. Feels more like a home.” 

They were quiet for a moment, around them bugs chirping. Inside the lights were getting too bright, and their laughter too loud for him to handle. This wasn’t the first moment, he thought, that everything around him became too much. 

Upon waking up, it seemed everything was too bright and too loud and just too... _ much _ . He shut his eyes and imagined just a blank space around him, trying to calm himself down. 

The backyard seemed a better place for that. 

“You okay, Eddie?” Ben finally asked. 

“Never better,” he said. 

“Seriously,” he said. 

“Seriously, Ben.” 

Ben sighed, 

“You and Richie haven’t talked yet, have you,” he said. 

“It’s all we’ve been doing,” Eddie said, smiling wryly. 

“I mean about what happened.” 

“And what happened, Ben?” Eddie asked, impatience rising in his voice. 

“In the sewers...Eddie we all saw it,” he said. 

Eddie scoffed, making strange noises instead of giving him an answer. 

“You think I don’t know what that was?” 

“What was it, Ben?” he asked, annoyed. 

“You love him,” Ben said, quietly. 

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, he couldn’t respond.

He wasn’t sure what he’d say, though. 

“You love him and you didn’t get to say it back there, and now you have a second chance.” 

Ben’s voice was low, almost a whisper. There was a silent bond between them in that moment, a kinship that Eddie knew, from the beginning, but he tried to push it out of his mind. 

But as Ben said it aloud, Eddie came face to face with his own truth, one he told himself he was too busy to face. 

“Yeah, I do,” he said, his voice breaking. 

“The longer you wait, the more it’s going to hurt,” he said. 

Eddie snorted, 

“It’s...not as easy as that,” Eddie finally said. “I can’t just go up and say, ‘hey remember right before I died? Well yeah, actually what I was going to say was that I loved you and have always been in love with you!’ I mean between trying to get Richie to believe that it’s really me come back to life and telling you all my story for the hundredth time today, I haven’t exactly had time to tell him all of that!” 

Eddie finally exhaled, and Ben was somewhat impressed that he'd managed to say that all in one breath.

“What about now?” he asked. 

Eddie stared at him, 

“No, I don’t think now’s a good time, either,” he said. 

“Why not?” 

“Because!” Eddie yelled. 

“Because what?” 

“Ben I swear to god…” 

Ben put his hands up in mock surrender,

“All I’m asking is, when is it going to be the right time to tell Richie how you feel?” 

“I don’t know! Maybe I should ask the turtle?” he spat. 

Ben rolled his eyes, but he remained patient with him. 

God, Eddie really hated how calm he was. 

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk to him,” Eddie said. “Every time he looks at me, he looks terrified, like...like…” 

“Like he’s seen a ghost?” Ben said, smiling slightly. 

“Very funny,” Eddie deadpanned. 

“I’m sorry, continue,” he said. 

“All night he’s looked at me different. He hasn’t made any jokes, he won’t look me in the eye, and when he does look at me, he just keeps looking like I’m gonna break.” 

Eddie’s hands shook, and his voice trembled. 

“He’s just in shock,” Ben said, quietly. 

“And I can’t put him through anymore than this right now,” he said. 

“I get it,” he said, “but I think you both have been through enough to just tell him that you love him.” 

“Not yet,” Eddie said. 

Ben put his arm around him, 

“You’re not going to regret telling him how you feel,” he said, “take it from me.” 

Eddie smiled slightly, and Ben took it as a good thing, 

“Yeah aren’t you guys lucky,” he said, sarcastically, though there was something genuine in his voice. 

“You have another chance, now. You shouldn’t keep yourself waiting like this.” 

“But what if I’m wrong?” he asked. 

Ben sighed, 

“He was literally holding your hand just now, back there,” Ben said. 

“You saw that?” he asked. 

“Eddie we all saw that. We’ve all been looking for it since you got here.” 

Color rose in Eddie’s cheeks, and he looked away, slightly embarrassed. 

“I don’t think he’d try to hold your hand if he didn’t feel the same,” he said. 

Eddie tried to reply, sputtering out something incoherent. Ben took mercy on him and clapped him on the back, 

“Do you really want Stan to drag you within an inch of your new life for not speaking up sooner?” 

Eddie laughed, 

“No, death somehow made him even more lethal,” Eddie said. 

Ben sighed, his arm still around Eddie, 

“You’ve suffered enough, Eddie. You deserve to finally live the life that makes you happy.”

Eddie nodded, biting his lip, 

“Thanks Ben,” he said. 

“Come inside, I think everyone’s about ready to go to sleep,” he said. Eddie shook his head, 

“I’m gonna stay out here a little bit longer,” he said. 

Ben nodded, 

“Take it easy, Eddie,” he said as he left. 

Eddie took a deep breath of the warm summer air around him. He let his shoulders drop, and watched the stars overhead. 

Ben was right.

He deserved to live the life that made him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I would love to hear your guys' thoughts and opinions on the story so far!
> 
> Also!
> 
> The song Stan gets drunk to at his wedding:   
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_6FBfAQ-NDE


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Points are made.

“So,” Richie started. 

Now, it was only him and Eddie left, sitting outside in the backyard. The rest of them were making sleeping arrangements, finding as many blankets and pillows as they could. 

Eddie had disappeared during that chaos, and Richie found him sitting outside in the grass, his eyes closed, taking a deep breath of the last bit of summer air. 

“I think we should talk,” he continued. 

Eddie didn’t say anything. 

Richie sat beside him, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms, running his hands through the dewy grass. 

“About...that day,” Richie said. 

“What do you wanna talk about?” Eddie asked. 

He’d planned this, hadn’t he? The whole car ride up here, he’d planned out a long, heartfelt speech to Eddie about what had happened, what he wanted to say then, what he wanted to say now. 

And all at once he choked on those words, stuck in the back of his throat, trying to break out. 

“You took my stuff back,” Eddie said, suddenly. 

“Or we can talk about that,” Richie mumbled. 

“Why?” 

He shrugged, 

“It was all...it was just sitting there in the townhouse, I didn’t wanna leave it there.” 

“You could’ve,” he said. 

“But I didn’t want to,” he repeated. “Eddie, look, I just…” 

“You have to just say it, man,” he said, “and stop looking at me like I’m...I’m gonna break, or something.” 

Eddie’s voice cracked as he spoke and Richie hated himself just a little more with each word. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, quietly. He sat up straight, folding his arms across his chest. 

“This entire time, you all have been looking at me and Stan like we’re made of glass and the wrong move is just gonna break us again and...except Patty! She’s, like, the only one who’s accepted that he’s back! She’s holding him, and sitting with him like nothing’s changed! And she’s the only one who’s not treating him, or me for that matter, like we’re so fragile! I mean, she barely even knows me but she's ...” 

He trailed off, but Richie knew what he meant. 

He always knew. 

“That’s not what I wanted to do,” Richie said. “I just, I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“Well I am!” he exclaimed. 

“And I’m still processing,” Richie continued. 

“Process all you want just ...stop looking at me like that. I hate it.” 

Richie nodded.

“I just feel like...I’m gonna wake up any second now and you’ll be gone again and I don’t wanna feel like that again.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I lost you once,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, tears threatening to fall with each word he spoke. “I can’t do that. Not again.” 

Eddie finally looked over at him and they made eye contact for the first time since that morning. 

“I’m back, Rich, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, softly. 

“We don’t know that!” Richie exclaimed, holding back tears. “We don’t know what any of this is! And I don’t want to get my hopes up and wake up to my alarm tomorrow and find out it was all a fucking dream!” 

“You...think it’s temporary?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t know! I’m just trying to figure it out!” 

“We all are, man, it’s okay,” Eddie said. 

Richie opened his mouth to speak again, but this time the tears fell, and his words vanished. He looked away, unsure of what to do next. 

The two sat in silence, staring at the night sky, not sure where to go from here. 

“I’m gonna go inside,” Eddie said, after a moment. “You coming?” 

Richie stared at him for a moment, 

“Uh...later. I’m not tired.” 

Eddie watched him closely, but finally nodded, 

“Okay,” he said, quietly, before leaving. 

Richie hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he heard the balcony door close. He exhaled and closed his eyes. 

It would be a long night for him, he thought.

Slowly, the lights inside began to dim, and whatever shadows they cast disappeared in front of him. 

Richie wasn’t sure how long he’d been outside, dozing in and out of sleep as he lay there, his jacket serving as a pillow. 

When he found he couldn’t sleep for long, he sat up and pulled out a cigarette.

“Trouble sleeping?” 

Richie jumped, hiding the cigarette quickly, looking around him. 

Patty waved from the balcony door. She was wrapped in Stan’s sweater from earlier that evening. 

“Not the only one, I guess,” he said. 

“You got another one?” she asked, nodding to the cigarette. 

Richie pulled out his pack, shaking it around, 

“Come on over,” he said. She sat close to him as he lit it for her, crossing her legs on the grass taking a long drag of her cigarette. 

“Stan hates this habit,” she said, quietly. 

“Always did,” Richie said, “but I always thought it was just because I’d blow smoke in his face.” 

“Yeah that might’ve done it,” she teased. 

They were quiet for a moment, watching the stars overhead, listening to the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. 

Richie wanted to say something to her, but didn’t know where to start. This was the only person of their group he truly knew nothing about. 

He knew she was Stan’s wife, that they’d met in college, that they’d been married for a few years before everything happened. But he didn’t know  _ her _ . 

“You and I are in a similar situation, I hear,” she said, finally. Richie was grateful to her for picking up the conversation. 

“Yeah?” he asked. She nodded. 

She had one hand outstretched behind her and leaned back, tilting her head up to the sky with her eyes closed. 

“The man you love has just come back to life after you’d finally made peace with his death,” she said nonchalantly. 

He’d never told her that, and in fact, no one had ever called Eddie that to him, 

_ The man he loved _ . 

Why was this the first time he was hearing that phrase out loud?

Richie didn’t know what to say, so he only nodded. 

“So now the question is: Where do we go from here?” she asked, though she wasn’t really looking for an answer. 

“How did you react? When you saw him?” he asked. 

Patty smiled, 

“I screamed at the top of my lungs,” she said. She blew another puff of smoke. “What about you?” 

“I slammed the door in his face and fell on the ground.” 

“Nice,” she said, nodding. “I saw you two out here earlier...you both looked like you were arguing and I...just wanted to say I understand. It’s scary as hell, isn’t it?” 

Richie nodded, 

“Apparently I’m not doing so great with all this,” Richie said. 

Another silence, filled with smoke between them, and the deep sighs of two people whose minds were racing too fast to talk. 

“You know, I was gonna reach out to you after…” Richie started. 

Patty smiled, waving her hand between them, 

“I know,” she said. 

“You do?” he asked. She nodded, 

“Beverly was the first person to reach out after the funeral. She said she was going to come out and see me. We were planning something and then all of this happened,” she said. 

Her voice was surprisingly calm throughout, especially for a woman whose husband had just come back to life. She shook her head and continued,

“You know there was always...a gap...in Stan’s memory. I would ask him about his parents, about his hometown, his friends and it was as if that part of his life vanished. He remembered some things, but never any names or anything specific. I just thought it was because he was always forgetting things, but that wasn’t true. Stan has the best memory of anybody I knew. So I figured things were so bad that he’d rather not talk about it. And then there were moments where memories would come back and he would look like he’d seen a ghost.” 

Patty’s eyes were glossed over as she stared out into the distance, her cigarette still elevated in her hand. Richie could see her hand shaking, the cigarette threatening to fall out of it. Richie reached out, holding her hand steady. She smiled and took another shaky breath, 

“They did an interview with Beverly, once, on one of those morning shows about her new line. The look on Stan’s face when he saw it was...something between horror and joy. When I asked him about it, he just said that she looked familiar. It happened again when we saw part of your stand up. You made some joke and Stan laughed and said something like ‘of course he’d say that’, but it was the same look of horror and joy. I asked him about it later, because it wasn’t like him to watch those stand up specials, and he just it had caught his attention, nothing more. But there was always more. And then he started bringing home those books and...” Patty shook her head. 

“You guys saw my standup?” Richie asked, smiling. Patty rolled her eyes, but still smiled. 

“A little bit. He watched it with this morbid fascination, since it was never stuff Stan was into. But...you just drew him in and he kept watching.” 

Richie smiled, 

“None of us really forgot each other, there was always a part of us that remembered, even if we didn’t understand,” he said. 

“That’s what he told me. He said you never really leave Derry, you grow apart, but it’s one of those towns that always pulls you back.” 

Richie sighed and took another long drag of his cigarette, almost down to a nub. He pulled his knees to his chest and sat forward,

“You must think we’re crazy, now,” he said. Patty laughed, and he was grateful for the sound, it put him at ease. 

“That’s one way to describe it,” she said. “You know, if I’d heard all this a month ago I would’ve thought Stan was playing a joke on me, but now…Now it’s the only thing that makes sense...” She trailed off, shaking her head. 

“Welcome to the club,” he said. 

“It’s very cute that you all call yourselves the Losers Club,” she said. Richie snorted, 

“Wasn’t all that cute thirty years ago,” he said. 

“No but the, you know, your group, your friendship. It’s been really nice to see Stan with his friends. He belongs with you guys, it’s like what he was missing all those years. Stan came back to life, came back to me, but with you all, it’s like he really got his life back. And I think it’s what we deserve.” 

The last words hit him hard and suddenly Richie was out of breath again. He felt the same pain in his chest, again. 

“You think so?” he asked. 

Patty nodded immediately, 

“Of course,” she said, “we’ve all been through a lot these last few weeks, you all especially. And now we’re all back together, the way it’s supposed to be. We deserve that.” 

Patty turned to look at him now, laying a hand over his, 

“You need to let yourself move on. The longer you stare at him, wondering how it happened, the less time you have with him. Don’t do that to yourself.” 

He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until she squeezed his hand. What came out was a choked sob crossed with a laugh, a sound he didn’t know he was capable of making. He dropped his head onto his knees. 

They didn’t say anything after that, but sat watching as the sun rose over them. Patty held onto his hand until the sun came up and silently, they returned to the house, and went to bed. 

The pain in his chest had subsided, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of something else hanging over him. For nights on end, those final moments with Eddie replayed in his head every time he closed his eyes, but for the first night in a long time, when Richie closed his eyes, he drifted into a dreamless sleep. 

Patty was right, it’s what they deserved. 


	5. Chapter 5

“No, absolutely not, that’s out of the question.”

Richie walked into the kitchen to Bev and Bill yelling about something. He’d only gone to bed a mere three hours ago, but he felt like he’d slept a lifetime. Their yelling, however, was not helping. His head was pounding and even the slightest noise made him want to throw himself off the balcony. 

At the kitchen table, Patty smiled at him, 

“Morning,” she said quietly as he took a seat next to her. 

“Morning Richie,” Stan mumbled without looking up from his newspaper. He had to admire the scene a bit. Stan and Patty sitting next to each other at the dining table, Stan with a newspaper in front of him and a mug of coffee next to him, Patty with a book and a glass of orange juice in front of her. Stan wearing a proper nightsuit,  _ of course,  _ complete with a robe, a great contrast to Richie’s t-shirt from the day before and boxers. 

He turned his attention to the kitchen island, now. Bev and Bill standing on opposite sides yelling unintelligibly, Bill’s stutter coming back as Bev continued a parade of “no’s” as he tried to speak. 

It was kind of fun to watch, he had to admit. 

Eddie sat next to Bill and Richie tried to catch his eye. Eddie stared down at the counter, arms crossed, his leg bouncing. He was biting his lip, too, and the bad feeling in the pit of Richie’s stomach got worse. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, finally. 

Ben sat at the island, coffee in hand, watching Bev and Bill stand across from each other, still yelling. 

“Bill thinks we need to go back to Derry,” Ben shouted over them. 

“Fuck no!” Richie yelled, without hesitation. 

The group was quiet, staring at Richie now. Even Stan looked up at him, the rustling of his newspaper the only sound among them in that moment.

“Why would we go back?” he asked. 

“A lot’s happened,” Bill started, “I think we need to go back and find out  _ what  _ exactly has changed.” 

“We  _ just  _ got out of there! Like we literally JUST escaped with our lives and you wanna go back? So...what? We can almost die again?” 

“Listen, Richie, if something’s happening, it’s coming from Derry,” Bill continued. 

“I don’t give a fuck! Derry can get swallowed up into the earth for all I care!” 

“I know it’s all still too fresh for us, but-” 

“But nothing! It hasn’t even been a full month since we left there, okay? If Eddie and Stan so who cares? We’ve got them back and isn’t that the important thing? We don’t need to go back!” 

“Richie-”

“No!” 

Bill’s eyes grew wide, and they could see him stuttering, trying to get the words out, but nothing came. 

“We’re not going back there, end of story. I can’t believe you thought that would be a good idea, man,” Richie said. 

“It was my idea,” Stan said calmly. 

He set his newspaper down, addressing Richie’s shocked expression, 

“Something happened out there that none of us can explain. I don’t even know what happened in the first place. We came back for some reason, and if we want to understand it, we need to go back.” 

“Are you hearing yourselves right now? You wanna go back? Back to that hell hole that we finally said ‘fuck off’ to? There’s no reason to go back, why can’t we just accept that we’re all back together and move on?” 

He was looking at Patty now, but she only rested a hand over his.

“Richie,” Stan said, quietly, “I understand you don’t want to go back, but Eddie and I still need answers. Me, especially. I wasn’t there with you all last time so I don’t know what I’m missing here. There’s a gap in my memory that I can’t live with. We’ve all lived with that before and you know how awful it was.” 

“No! I’m sorry you feel like that Stan but...I’m not going back there. If you all wanna go back, be my fucking guest but I’m not going,” he said.

Richie looked to Bev now, she was the only one who nodded along, but her eyes were far away, thinking it over. He knew that as she was making up her mind, they’d already made up theirs. 

“Forget it,” he mumbled, storming out of the kitchen. 

Out in the backyard, Richie stood with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. The image of Neibolt crumbling into the ground replayed in front of him and he could feel himself shaking all over again. 

“You okay?” 

Eddie spoke up behind him. Richie couldn’t bring himself to answer, and stayed in his spot. He heard the rustling of the grass as Eddie approached, standing next to him now. His voice quite, low enough so he was the only one who could hear, 

“I know you don’t want to go back, Rich, but…” 

Richie snorted, 

“Not you, too,” he groaned. 

“I think Stan makes a good point,” he said, shrugging. 

“You really wanna go back? After everything that happened?” he asked. Richie turned himself entirely to face Eddie now, but he stayed put. 

“No,” he said, “I don’t want to, but I think we need to.” 

“Why?” 

His voice was quiet, desperate, trying to understand what had happened in the few hours he’d been asleep. 

“I don’t remember anything, Rich,” Eddie said quietly, hands stuffed inside his jacket pockets, “and I don’t want to feel like that again. I see things in my dreams and I don’t know what they mean and I--” 

“And you want to?” he asked, cutting him off. 

Eddie looked up at him, confused, 

“I do,” he whispered. “I hate feeling like there’s a part of me still left back there. I hate not knowing what happened.” 

“And why is that so important? Isn’t it enough to just be back?” he asked. 

Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but Richie couldn’t help himself, 

“Wouldn’t it just be enough to leave that place forever? To just drive away? For good?” 

Eddie’s brows furrowed, looking over him, 

“This is something I have to do,” he said. “Stan and I both have to.” 

He took another deep breath, but looked away. 

“We need to go back to Derry, if you don’t wanna go, fine no one’s going to force you to go. But…” Eddie trailed off. He took a shaky breath and continued, this time, his voice barely above a whisper, “I need you, Rich. I need you with me.” 

Richie’s heart leapt. 

“Everytime we’re there something bad happens to you, and I don’t wanna take that risk again.” 

“I know, and I can’t promise that something bad won’t happen again--because, come on, it’s Derry for fuck’s sake--but I can promise you that we’ll stick together this time. We go back together, we come back together.” 

Richie searched his face, trying to find some fault, some hint of hesitation, anything that would tell him this was a bad idea, but he got nothing. 

Because that was the thing about Eddie, Richie thought. He was the bravest among them, and even Derry wasn’t enough to scare him back. Back in the kitchen the rest were still fighting it out, but here was Eddie, standing in front of him, ready to go back and face it all. And Richie found himself relaxing slightly. He would go back, too, if Eddie did. No matter what happened, he could do anything as long as Eddie was by his side, and for a second he cursed that part about him, but instead he said, 

“Fine. We go back together, we come back together.” 

Eddie smiled, holding his hand out for him. Without a second thought, Richie took it, leading him back inside where the rest were still arguing about it.

“We’re going to Derry,” Richie announced. 

The group stopped talking, looking at the two of them, waiting for them to continue. 

“But I’m not driving,” he finished. 

They broke out into smiles and soft laughter, nodding in agreement. Richie looked to Stan, sitting beside him, 

“Ready?” Richie asked, clapping him on the shoulder. Stan sighed, 

“Nope,” he said with a smile. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory and some faded polaroids.

The rest of the group made plans to leave downstairs. They could hear their voices all blend together after a while as they prepared. 

Richie and Eddie did not join them for that.

Richie sat on the bed of the guest room as Eddie paced. They both realized they had no luggage with them, no change of clothes, nothing, but Richie couldn’t care less about that right now. 

“Are you gonna call her?” he asked. 

Eddie stopped, staring at him with a blank expression. 

“Who?” 

“Your wife. Ex-wife? Widow? Whatever you wanna call her.” 

“Right,” he said, quietly. “I have to.” 

“You probably should.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“Hey sweetheart, remember when my friend told you I was dead? Yeah, turns out he was lying and I’m alive,” he thought out loud. 

“I don’t even wanna know how she’s gonna react to that,” he said. 

“Well she almost killed me when I told her, so…” Richie trailed off. 

“Right,” he mumbled. 

Richie nodded. It was silent between them and Richie grew uncomfortable. He started speaking without thinking, just letting his mouth work faster than his brain.

“You had so much shit and I was the only one driving back I just thought...you know...she’d probably want it back.” 

Eddie’s brows were furrowed, watching him closely. Richie waited for him to say something, but Eddie stayed quiet. 

In his mind, he replayed that day, but stopped himself from telling him. 

He remembers Myra, and how his first thought was how much she looked like his mother. He remembers his heart breaking, but he wasn’t sure why. 

He pictured the little boy whose mother was too scared to let him out of her sight, and he somehow knew she was the same. 

He remembers her crying, yelling at him, telling him he was lying, that her sweet Eddie was going to come back soon, she knew it. 

He remembers her watching him quietly, the same intense stare Eddie’s mother would give him as they ran out the house. It really was a reincarnated Sonia, he thought. 

He remembers his heart breaking all over again, handing over the two giant suitcases to her. He thought of the hoodie he’d taken from it, that lay in his car. He wondered, for a brief moment, if he should return that, too. But he didn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

Then there were the pictures. 

A box of them, to be exact. She had disappeared into a bedroom with the suitcases and Richie had taken that as his cue to leave. She stepped out a moment later holding an old box, handing it to him almost...hesitantly. 

It was heavier than he’d imagined, but he didn’t dare open it up in front of her. That would be too much, he knew. 

“Eddie never threw anything out,” she had said. Richie only nodded, taking the box from her. For a moment, she couldn’t let go of it, either. Her hand gripped the box tight, and she couldn’t look at him, her eyes fixed on the box. But something in him wouldn’t back down either, and pulled the box towards him rather harshly. She let her hand drop to her side and asked him to leave. He couldn’t say anything. 

It turned out he didn’t need to. 

What had she known that he didn’t? 

It had taken him only five seconds to open it, once he was back in his car. An old yearbook, from their senior year, the one where every page had their handwriting on it. From jokes he only half remembered, to crude drawings around the teachers’ pictures, to the signature pages filled with only the notes of their group. 

His hands trembled as he flipped through them, as though they might turn to dust in his hands if he weren’t careful. 

Beneath the book were polaroids of all of them, from Halloween, some from Christmas, and a few from graduation. But he knew of one that should’ve been there, but wasn’t. The one he’d taken back all those years ago.

Richie felt like he was going to throw up. 

And there, laying on the bed as Eddie paced back and forth, Richie felt the same nausea he succumbed to only two weeks prior. 

“What’d she say?” Eddie asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Richie shrugged, 

“She cried,” he said. There was a flash of pain in Eddie’s eyes as he cast them down. Eddie’s own heart broke for her. “Said that she recognized me from some photos you had, though. Something about a yearbook.” 

Richie watched him closely and could see Eddie tense up. 

“I have to go see her,” he said, quietly. 

“We’ll stop on the way,” Richie said. 

“You don’t have to-” Eddie started. 

“We’ll stop on the way,” Richie repeated with just a little more force this time. He wasn’t going to see her, he knew as much. He couldn’t imagine what she might do to him if he showed up back on her doorstep, two weeks later, Eddie in tow. 

Eddie sighed, but nodded. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. He watched Richie, though he pretended not to notice, going back to his phone. 

“You think now’s a good time to talk?” Eddie said, 

“About what?” Richie asked. 

Eddie scanned his face, and shook his head, 

“Never mind. It can wait.” 

A knock at the door made them both tense, only relaxing as Ben poked his head through, 

“We’re leaving soon, who’s driving?” 

Eddie raised a hand, Ben nodded.

“I’m taking Bev, Patty and Stan. Mike and Bill can ride with you,” he said. The two nodded. 

“We gotta make a stop on the way,” Richie said. Eddie turned back to him, a confused look on his face. Richie ignored him, he knew Ben would understand him. 

Ben nodded again. 

“Downstairs in five minutes.” 

***

“Shouldn’t the undead be in the same car?” Richie asked, walking back out into Ben’s driveway. 

“Richie,” Bev said, annoyed. 

“I’m just saying, if they came back together, maybe they should stay together,” he said, shrugging. 

“If you don’t want us in the car, Rich, you just have to tell us,” Bill said, brushing past him. 

“Who wouldn’t want you in the car with them, Billy baby,” Richie said, yawning. 

“You gonna be okay?” Bev asked. 

“Aren’t I always?” he replied. 

Bev frowned, looking him up and down. 

“Have you talked to him?” she asked. 

“That’s all we’ve been doing, Bev,” he said. She tilted her head, 

“Richie,” she said. 

Richie stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away. Bev had a way of staring straight through him, seeing what he was hiding. 

He hated it.

“We’re stopping on the way. He needs to go home, see his wife,” he said quietly. 

Bev nodded, resting a gentle hand on his arm, and kissed his cheek. 

“Stay close,” she said softly. He smiled, and headed for his car.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful day for a confrontation.

When Eddie had told them he would stop at his place on the way, he hadn’t expected any of them to wait up for him. 

In fact, he had asked them all to go ahead without him, Richie was staying back already and they would be fine. They’d be going in the opposite direction, anyway, and it was no use slowing down their trip for something Eddie had to do alone. 

But maybe it was their loyalty, or their dependency on each other, or maybe it was the morbid curiosity they had about Eddie’s life before their return, that they all stopped, parking next to each other in the building’s garage. 

He knew looking at them that it was loyalty, though, and he was never more grateful for this group of people in front of him. 

Sure, he had to do it alone, but knowing they were there with him made him relax just a little bit.

“Do we….” Richie had started, looking to him. Eddie watched them look between each other, all shrugging, mumbling something. 

“You guys want to come up with me?” he asked, surprised. 

It wasn’t an invitation, it was for clarification. 

The other seven stood there in front of him, nodding and shrugging as if to say  _ of course we’re coming with you, Eddie _ and all he could do was stare in bewilderment. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“To pay our respects,” Stan deadpanned. 

Bev and Mike tried to hide their smiles, Richie nodding in agreement. 

“I mean, part of me doesn’t want to, cause, you know, she might try and kill me but...the other part of me  _ really _ wants to see what happens,” Richie said. “We missed Patty’s face when Stan showed up, I don’t wanna miss this one.” 

“You didn’t miss much,” Patty said without looking. “I fainted almost immediately.” Stan nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t wanna miss that,” Richie said. 

Eddie inhaled and they could all hear the annoyance in his voice without him saying a single word. 

The group stared at Eddie and he knew they wouldn’t accept any other answer. 

“The elevator has a maximum capacity of ten people and there are eight of us and I really feel like that’s pushing it and I don’t wanna do that.” 

“Stairs?” Ben offered. 

“God no, it’s on the fifteenth floor,” Eddie said. 

That did not deter any of them. He waited for one of, any of them, to say they would stay back or they were going to continue on, but nothing came.

Eddie sighed, almost in relief. He couldn’t ask them to stay with him, couldn’t ask them to witness whatever shitshow was about to go down, but knowing that they would walk beside him anyway? That felt like a weight lifting off his shoulders. 

“Thank you, guys,” he said, quietly, looking at the ground. 

“Always,” he heard Bev say. 

But then there was the thought about what he would say when he saw her. How he would explain himself to his wife. 

Ex wife? 

Widow? 

What did he call her, now? 

“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, digging the heel of his shoe in the ground. 

“You’ll know,” Stan said, quietly. Eddie looked up at him and Stan smiled softly, nodding at him. “When you see her you’ll know what to say.” 

He relaxed slightly. But his stomach churned and he felt like he was going to throw up. The others began walking towards the building but Eddie stopped and turned back towards the car. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbled, his vision going hazy. He bent over, his hands on his knees, dry heaving. 

Richie stayed with him, his hand running up and down his back reassuringly. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” he said, quietly. Eddie shook his head, 

“I should’ve stayed dead,” he mumbled. 

“Too late for that, Eds,” Richie said, patting him on the back. 

***

There was some conversation about whether they should go up to the door with him, or if they should hang back, watch from a corner. 

Richie suggested that he call Eddie and have him keep his phone on speaker the entire time he’s in there. 

It was met with a resounding no. 

He still thought it was a pretty good idea, even if he did see it in a crime movie once. 

In the end, they’d crammed into the hallway that now seemed too small for all of them, huddling around Eddie as he knocked on the door, Richie right beside him. 

They’d all stopped breathing as they heard the slow shuffle of footsteps behind the door. Eddie was shaking so hard he thought he might faint. His vision blurred and his mouth was dry. 

Slowly, or at least to the group it seemed slowly, the door opened and Myra stood in front of them. 

From the corner of his eye, Richie looked around, trying to gauge their reaction. They were just as surprised as he’d been when he’d first met her. 

“Eddie?” 

Her voice was quiet, as though she could barely say his name, as if she might say it too loud and he would disappear. 

There was heartbreak in her voice and they all looked away. 

“Hi honey,” he said quietly, trying to smile. 

They waited for Myra to say something, the look on her face growing increasingly worried, panicked. 

She slammed the door, and for a minute Richie sympathized with her. 

“Why does that keep happening,” Eddie mumbled. He straightened himself up, and took a deep breath and knocked again. 

“Myra it’s me, please open the door, we need to talk,” he said, knocking faster. 

The group stayed beside him, and as if on instinct, standing taller around him. Richie took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He could see the corners of Eddie’s mouth turn up into a small smile. 

The door opened a crack, and there was a sharp inhale around them, each one bracing for what might come next.

“It’s not you,” Myra whispered. 

“It is,” he said. “I know it’s gonna sound crazy but…” 

Richie hit him with his elbow, shaking his head, 

“I have to tell her,” he whispered angrily, 

“Make something up!” Richie whispered back. 

“You.” 

Eddie and Richie whipped their heads back to the door as it opened a crack, Myra’s eyes focused on Richie, 

“What’re you doing here?” she asked. 

Her voice was somewhere between confusion and pain and Richie couldn’t really blame her. 

“Nice to see you again, Myra,” he said, nodding. 

“What kind of sick joke is this, Tozier?” she asked. 

“It’s not a joke,” Eddie said, cutting in. “Myra please open the door. We need to talk.” 

She looked between the two of them, and finally stepped aside to let them in. 

“Only you,” she said, looking at Eddie. 

“Richie comes with me,” Eddie said firmly. 

It was perhaps the first time Eddie had sounded so sure of himself. Myra knew this too by the way she looked at him. She took a deep breath and nodded, 

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

Richie turned back to the group and nodded. Bev gave him a thumbs up just as he entered the apartment again. 


	8. Eddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take it back now, y'all.  
One week this time.

“WAIT!” 

He woke up gasping for air, coughing hard. The bed was unfamiliar to him, hard and old, it creaked at the slightest movement. 

He blinked rapidly as though to look past the blinding light in front of him. 

He was completely alone in his room at the old Derry Townhouse, still dark outside. He tried to get up but his head was spinning and he felt like he was going to throw up. 

His entire body ached, like weights had been holding him down, pushing him deeper and deeper into the ground. He let out a cry as he sat up in bed, eyes closed, trying to regain his balance. His head felt heavy and it hurt to move it too fast.

Eddie looked around anyway, trying to understand what happened, how he’d gotten here,  _ why  _ he was here. 

And then slowly, it started to come back. 

Down in the sewers.

Pennywise. 

The group. 

Richie.

“Richie,” he whispered.

He looked down at himself. He was still wearing the same clothes from that day, his shirt soaked from god knows what. Something burned on his stomach, something so hot and so sharp he thought he’d been stabbed. 

He stopped, 

_ He had been stabbed, hadn’t he? Down in the sewers? So how did he end up here? _

Slowly, he lifted his shirt up, running his hand over his stomach. A long, jagged scar ran up his stomach and his mind went blank. 

Eddie jumped out of the bed, running out of the room and into the hall. It was as quiet as before, but something felt different this time. 

“Richie?” he called out. “Bev?” 

He wandered around the building, calling for the rest of them but there was not a soul in sight. Outside he found his car still parked in the lot and the keys in his pocket. Had they been in his pocket all along? 

Derry felt different.  _ He _ felt different.

Something had shifted around him, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He tried to think back to where he was last. 

The cistern. 

Richie, floating in the deadlights. 

Hadn’t he pulled him out of them? Hadn’t he saved Richie? So where was he now? And why was he by himself? 

He had to leave, had to find the others, and find out what happened to him. 

***

His car was still there, the keys were in his pocket, but the rest of his stuff was gone. He didn’t care about that part as much, less weight for the ride back. 

The ride back? Where was he going? 

As far as he knew, the rest of them had left Derry. He tried to remember that first night, as they talked about their lives. 

_ Ben and Beverly were in New York, weren’t they?  _

_ And Bill was in LA?  _

_ But Richie was… _

_ Where was Ricihe?  _

And suddenly, as though there was another voice in his mind, the same voice that told him it was time to go home, it said  _ New York _ . 

It was nearly five am, the sun wouldn’t rise for another hour. If he floored it, he could be in New York before noon. 

And so he drove, faster than he’d driven before. His hands gripped the wheel tight, and the only thought to keep him going was finding the others. 

But he couldn’t understand why he’d woken up alone? And how long had they been gone? 

The radio announced it was only Saturday the 11th. 

That would make it…

Three weeks since they’d been down in the cisterns? 

Had they really left him alone, there, for three weeks? 

His hands began to tremble at the thought, images coming back to him of bright flashing lights, of the bright lights surrounding them, and throwing the spear right into the mouth of the beast. 

But he does not remember anything after that, trying hard as he might, his memory went blank after the spear left his hand. 

But there was something else in him, a voice, something deep and echoing throughout him, telling him where to go, where to turn. 

Even he wasn’t sure where he was going, except that Richie would be there at the end. That was enough to keep him driving.

***

He drove without worry, for once, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to drive fast. He was on autopilot, swerving in and out of heavy traffic with ease, his eyes on the road but his mind drifting. 

He tried to piece together what he could, try to make up for lost time. 

They had been in the cistern. He had thrown the spear and killed It. 

But he hadn’t really done much, he remembered, with a sharp pain running down his torso and back, like a fire sending him jumping if he thought about it too long. 

But then the world went dark and he felt like he was floating. Suspended above ground, water wrapping around him like a blanket, not drowning him or suffocating him, but holding him steady. Cool and crystal clear water all around him, that’s all he could remember in between. If he closed his eyes long enough, he felt like he was back there, too, floating in that water and he felt…

Safe. 

Time was blurred now, for him. No real beginning or end for anything, not when he left Derry or when he got to New York, and certainly not when arrived in front of this building in the city, but looking up at it, that same voice in the back of his mind told him to go. 

But something else stopped him, now. It was as though he was shot back into reality. The voices of everyone passing by him, car horns blaring, the sound of heavy construction equipment in the background. 

It was as if a bubble popped around him and he could hear everything clearly now, a new reminder that he was, indeed, alive. He stared up at the building in front of him wondering if it was worth it, if he was ready for it. But whatever force had guided him this far urged him forward, pushed him towards it.

He walked through the halls guided by the same voice in him that had led him here. Only stopping in front of the door, coming back into his own again.

As though everything he’d done up until this point was autopilot, watching himself from the outside make this journey. And now he stood at the door, the reins back in his hands and Eddie paused. 

He knew who was on the other side of that door, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 

Eddie closed his eyes, and all he saw was Richie’s face, smiling at him, voices muted and only Richie’s laugh came through to him. 

He wasn’t sure what to say, if he opened the door at all, all he knew was that he had to try. 

So Eddie took his chance and knocked. 

“Hey Rich,” he said in relief when he opened the door. The sight of him made him smile again, and it only dropped when Richie screamed and slammed the door on his face. 

Eddie sighed.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t be this easy. 

***

Eddie leaned forward, placing his ear right on the door to hear Richie mumbling something to himself. He’d heard a thump not even a moment ago, and assumed it was Richie falling to the floor. 

“Richie, come on man,” Eddie said, knocking again. He stepped back, his hand raised, ready to knock again when he heard another thump against the door. Slowly, Richie opened the door again, but his eyes were closed. Eddie frowned, but Richie peeked out. For a moment they stood and stared at each other, and Eddie felt awkward in front of him, unsure what to do or what to say. 

“Don’t shut the door on my face again, man, that’s not cool.” 

And for a brief second, Eddie swore he saw a flicker of laughter on his face, something light up in Richie’s eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as he saw it. 

“Eddie?” Richie asked, his voice shaking. He smiled in relief. He never thought hearing his name could bring him so much peace. 

“Hey,” he replied quietly. 

Richie looked him up and down and Eddie, for the first time since he woke up, realized how odd he looked. He was still wearing the same clothes from that day, gauze still taped to his cheek, and a darkened stain all down his shirt. 

“No,” Richie finally said, looking back up at him. “No this...this isn’t...no,” he mumbled. 

“I know this is crazy, and I know what you’re thinking but please, hear me out, this is real, Rich, it’s me, please,” he pleaded. He spoke so fast he was sure Richie hadn’t heard a word of that. He stepped forward, his hands outstretched to stop the door if it came back for him, but Richie jumped back. 

It felt like the air had left his lungs, and he realized what this was. 

Fear. 

Richie was scared to see him, he wasn’t ready for this, and a small voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t have come here. But he pushed that thought out almost immediately. 

“How?” Richie whispered. 

“I don’t know,” he said. 

“When?” he asked. Eddie shrugged, 

“I...don’t know?” 

“How did you find me?” 

The question of the hour. Even Eddie wasn’t sure how to explain it. 

“I...just knew?” 

“This isn’t happening,” Richie started again. 

“Richie please,” he said. 

Richie’s phone buzzed in his pocket sending a shock through both of them. Richie closed his eyes and fished it out. Eddie now realized he didn’t have his phone with him. Did he have it with him in the cisterns? No, he couldn’t have. So where was his phone? 

“Hey Mike,” Richie said, opening one eye. Eddie watched him carefully, 

“Sure,” Richie continued. Eddie couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, and it annoyed him just a little bit. 

“In New York. And...uh,” Richie swallowed hard, staring at Eddie. “Eddie’s here, too, Mike.” 

Richie stared at the ground, focusing on what Mike was say8ing. 

“Uh-huh,” was all he said before ending the call. 

“Mike’s on his way?” Eddie asked. 

“Yup.” 

They stared at each other and though he knew Richie was worried, confused, even scared by his presence here, Eddie felt okay for the first time since he woke up. It was as if just by standing in front of Richie had cleared his head. 

“How did you get here?” he asked, finally. 

And Eddie realized he didn’t really know how. He drove here, but how did he reach this very spot? How had he known Richie would be here, in this room, at this very moment? 

“I wish I knew,” he finally said. 

He noticed Richie’s grip getting tighter on the door but finally relented. 

“Come inside,” he finally said, stepping aside. 

Eddie hesitated, but watched him closely. Richie kept his eyes on the ground. 

It was going to take them a while, he thought. But he was going to give it all the time in the world to help him understand. To help both of them understand. 

“Thanks,” he said, stepping inside. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here, or how he’d woken up at all, but all Eddie knew in this moment was that he was with Richie again. 

He had a second chance with him and he wasn’t going to waste a single second of it. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie stands up.

“What the fuck, Eddie.” 

It wasn’t a question, so much as Myra’s general reaction to him. 

“I know,” he said, nodding, looking at the ground. 

“You  _ died _ ,” she said. 

“Yeah,” he replied. 

“You lied to me,” she said. 

Eddie’s head shot up, 

“I didn’t lie!” he said helplessly. 

“Yes you did!” she yelled. 

“Listen, Myra, I-I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m sorry, I wish I could explain it but I-”

“You can try,” she said, cutting him off. 

It was as if on instinct that Eddie looked to Richie. Richie stood in the corner by the fireplace, toying with one of the candles sitting there. Eddie and Myra sat across from each other on the couch. 

She had cried at first, but in her anger towards him forgot about that and started yelling. Richie had shrunk himself, moving to a corner where he tried to go unnoticed, but Myra’s death glares reminded him that she knew he was there, and she knew he had something to do with all of this. 

“I really can’t,” he said. 

“Is it the same reason you had to run back to Maine in such a rush?” she asked, her eyes still on Richie. He turned his head away, staring at the pictures on the shelves beside him. 

“I told you that was something personal,” he said. 

“Like that letter?” 

Eddie looked at her, confused. 

“What letter?” 

“The one your  _ friend _ sent. Stan something? Yeah I read it, all of it, and it made no sense so I know you’re lying about something!” she exclaimed. 

“Myra, what letter?” he asked again. 

“We all got one,” Richie said, quietly. As much as he tried not to draw any attention to himself, he felt like he had to take this one. 

Eddie and Myra both looked at him, Myra’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. 

“What?” Eddie asked. 

“I’ll tell you about it later, but Stan sent us all letters. Well, Patty did,” he said, trying to keep his voice down. 

“I get that letter and the next thing I know  _ this one _ ,” she said, pointing at Richie, “shows up at our door with your suitcases and tells me you died!” 

“I didn’t get the later until later,” Richie said, looking at Eddie. 

“I’m sorry that happened,” Eddie said, turning back to her, “but listen, I can explain!” 

“Then explain!” she yelled.

Eddie stuttered out another reply, only to be cut off by Myra, crying again. 

This went on for a while. 

Eddie would try to explain as best he could (without going into too much detail about what had happened), Myra would start crying, then start yelling, and then Eddie would yell, too. 

Maybe he should’ve stayed outside, Richie thought. But he was stopped by the line of picture frames on the shelf next to him. He had always wondered what Eddie’s marriage was like, he just assumed it was a disaster, that it wasn’t real. The pictures confirmed that. 

They were mostly of vacations they’d taken. Grand Canyon, the Statue of Liberty, Yosemite. None of the pictures were of them together. Only single shots of them both in front of landmarks. But there, in the middle of those pictures, was their wedding picture. It was the only picture of both of them.

He’d seen it the last time he was here, but she hadn’t given him much time to look around. He couldn’t help himself, and as Eddie and Myra yelled it out, he picked up the picture carefully, so as to not disturb the other frames around it. 

They looked happy. 

At least she did. 

Eddie’s smile was small and didn’t reach his eyes. Myra’s smile was wider and happier, bordering on a little deranged. 

It was a forced photo, he thought, as forced as Eddie’s smile. Richie’s protective instinct kicked in the longer he looked at it. 

He was still holding their wedding photo, staring at the faces of two people he barely knew, wondering just how happy they might’ve been on that day. 

“Just say you want a divorce and be done with it!” Myra yelled. 

Richie set the frame back down quickly, turning back to them. 

They were both standing, now, 

“That’s not even what we’re talking about!” Eddie yelled back. 

“But you want to!” she exclaimed. 

Richie stared at them, eyes wide. 

“I’m sorry! Okay? I’m sorry I lied! I’m sorry I left without telling you everything! And I’m sorry you thought I was dead for almost a month! I’m sorry for everything!” 

“But?” she prodded. 

Eddie’s face changed. His expression dropped, and the visible tension he was holding in his shoulders fell. 

He looked defeated.

“I...I don’t know,” he said, his voice returning to normal. 

“You’re leaving me,” she said, no longer yelling, but still an edge to her voice. “Again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. 

“No you’re not,” she replied. She was calm, but she was still scary.

“Myra…” he trailed off, growing frustrated. 

“I’ll just…” Richie mumbled, excusing himself. He weaved around the furniture heading for the door, 

“You have something to do with all of this, don’t you,” she said, turning back to him. Richie stopped dead in his tracks behind Eddie. 

Richie opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off again.

“I knew it the first time I saw you, you had something to do with all of this. You did something to him, didn’t you?” she accused. 

“I…” 

“Richie had nothing to do with it,” Eddie cut in. His voice was calm. Defensive, but terrifyingly calm.

“Why are you defending him?” she asked. 

“Because he didn’t do anything!” Eddie yelled. 

“I’m gonna go,” Richie mumbled. 

“Good,” she said. 

“No,” Eddie said, looking at him. 

Richie was stuck. 

“What?” Myra yelled. 

“Richie stays,” he said. 

“I’ll leave, it’s fine,” Richie said quietly, making his way to the door. 

“He should leave! This is between you and me, Eddie!” Myra yelled. 

“Richie stays!” he said louder, this time. 

“Like hell he does!” she replied. 

“Then we’ll both leave,” he said. 

That shut her up. She looked hurt, and as much as he didn’t want to sympathize with her, as much as he wanted to hate her and leave all of this as quickly as possible, he saw very real pain in her eyes. The pain of a person who knew she was losing everything. 

He still hated her, though.

“You’re making a mistake, you know,” she said. 

Eddie said nothing. “He got you killed once, he’ll do it again. He doesn’t care about you enough to keep you safe.” 

Richie’s mouth hung open, watching Eddie. 

Something in his eyes had snapped. He turned back to Myra, his face surprisingly calm, the only change was the way his hands shook at his side. 

“He cares about me more than anybody else,” Eddie said, his voice dangerously low. “More than you ever could have.” 

It felt like deja vu for Eddie. 

He had this conversation once before, and for a brief second, the ghost of his mother took Myra’s place. 

Myra opened her mouth to speak again but Eddie cut her off before she could start, 

“I’m done here,” he said. “I just thought you should know I’m not dead. But if you’d rather go back to thinking I was, I understand. Might be easier than a divorce. I am leaving here with my stuff and we’re done.” 

Even she was stunned into silence. She scanned his face, looking for something to argue with, something to latch onto, something she could twist just enough to keep him here. 

Eddie knew this, too, and looked away. 

“Your suitcases are in the bedroom,” she said, her voice cracking. 

She sat back on the couch while Eddie retrieved his things. Richie made his way back to the front door, and on the other side, he could hear the others shushing each other, but his attention focused on Eddie. 

When he emerged from the bedroom, Eddie parked his suitcases in front of Myra, and set his wedding ring down on the coffee table. 

“Goodbye Myra,” he said, quietly. She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes on the window beside her. 

Richie nodded at him. 

Eddie opened the door and the others stumbled forward, falling inside the apartment with loud groans. Bill stood up first, while Mike and Ben and Bev all pushed each other around, trying to find their footing. Bill tried to speak, to cover for them, but stopped himself when he saw Eddie’s face. He looked to Richie who only shook his head. 

“What the-?” Myra started, jumping off the couch as she saw the rest of them tumble forwards. “Who are these people?!” she yelled, looking at Eddie. Bill turned to her, ready to speak, but Eddie cut him off.

“My family,” he said, without another look to her. 

The group lifted themselves to their feet and made room for Eddie to leave. 

Mike and Ben took his suitcases from him, and led the others back to the elevator. Bev caught Richie’s elbow, her eyebrows raised silently asking the question all their minds. Richie shook his head. 

This would be a conversation for another time. Bev nodded, biting her lip, but weaved her way around him and Eddie, joining the others. 

Richie stayed by his side, though, and slowly, they walked away from the apartment, Richie matching his pace as, letting the others get ahead of them. 

Eddie took his hand, lacing their fingers together, still shaking. Richie squeezed his hand.

Eddie stopped them in the hallway, 

“What letter was she talking about back there?” he asked, suddenly. Richie snapped out of his own thoughts and remembered that detail. 

He was amazed they hadn’t brought it up yet, even with Stan explaining everything that had happened to him. 

“Oh, right. Stan wrote a bunch of letters to each one of us before he died. Patty mailed them out to us basically explaining what he did.” 

“He wrote six separate suicide notes?” Eddie asked, horrified. 

“He specifically said they were  _ not _ suicide notes,” Richie corrected. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Right? It was super creepy. Even weirder now that Stan’s back. Nice gesture, though,” Richie said. 

“Okay,” Eddie mumbled. 

Ahead of them, Ben held the elevator door open for them. Richie waved him off, and Ben nodded, smiling softly. 

There, still standing in their spot, they watched the elevator doors closed, and once they heard the tiny  _ ding _ , Eddie turned back to Richie,

“Did I do the right thing back there?” he asked softly. Richie could hear the uncertainty still in his voice. He turned to face Eddie completely, still holding his hands, and smiled, 

“Yeah,” he said. “You did the right thing.” 

Eddie couldn’t meet his eyes but still smiled. 

He knew they’d be alright. 

They would get through it together. 

They always had before. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to the past.

The drive was quiet. 

Richie slept the rest of the way there, his head resting on Eddie’s shoulders. He figured it was better to be unconscious when they got to Derry. 

That, and the whole ordeal at Eddie’s had left him drained. 

And he hadn’t even done anything. 

(Maybe he had, depending on who you asked.)

His dreams changed as they entered, though, he could feel it. 

They turned red, like drops of blood over a screen. They were children again, swimming at the quarry, laughing like they used to, but there was always blood around the corners. 

Like he was watching a home movie with the edges fading. 

He could see each one of their faces clear as day, but the longer he looked at them, the more distorted they became. Twisting into ungodly shapes and going black as night, one by one, they all disappeared, falling back into the water and never coming back up. All he heard was the way Eddie called his name right before he died. 

“Richie?” 

It was quiet, broken, helpless. 

“I’m here,” Richie mumbled, reaching out a hand to him. 

“Richie?” 

Eddie’s voice became louder and louder, until he was shaken out of it. 

“Richie!” Eddie said, loudly, 

“‘M here!” he mumbled, jolting up. 

“We’re here, guys,” Mike announced, pulling up to Derry’s town limits. 

Behind them, Ben’s car stopped, his headlights shutting off, leaving them in the dark. 

“What time is it?” he asked. 

“Almost midnight,” Mike said. 

_ Why did they have to get here so late?  _ Richie thought to himself. 

They all emerged, stretching and yawning, meeting each other by the old, dilapidated  _ Welcome to Derry!  _ sign. 

“Welcome home guys,” Mike said with a grimace. 

Stan pulled out a flask from back pocket, taking a long sip of whatever was in there, wincing. 

“Did you really…” 

“I’m preparing myself,” Stan said, cutting Richie off. 

“Well pass it around, you’re not the only one who needs it,” Richie said, holding his hand out for it.

Stan passed it to him, and Richie passed it on, each one of them taking a sip of the vodka in it. 

“When did you…” 

“From home,” Stan said, cutting him off once more. 

“We’re gonna need more of that,” Richie mumbled, passing it to Eddie. 

“How’re you guys feeling?” Ben asked, looking to Eddie and Stan. They both shrugged, not saying anything. 

“I fell asleep in the car,” Richie started, “and I started having those weird dreams again.” 

“Again?” Bev asked. He nodded, 

“Like before all this happened, with Eddie and Stan.” 

“What did you see?” Mike asked. 

Richie paused, but they were waiting, and he knew he would have to tell them sooner or later. 

“It was us, as kids,” he started. “But, like an old movie, and towards the end of it, there’s always like...like there’s blood that’s spilled over it. Everything goes red.” 

Bev put her hand over her mouth, looking away from them. 

“Why is there always blood,” Stan mumbled.

“Bev?” Ben asked, his arm still around her. 

“I...I know the feeling,” she said, wiping the tears off her face. “I see it, too,” she said.

“Well,” Stan started, “we’re at the gates of hell, no sense in just standing here. Where to, first?” 

They all looked at Mike. 

“Neibolt,” Eddie said, suddenly. 

“I don’t know about-” Bill started, 

“I need to go back there,” Eddie said with a quiet urgency. 

“Eddie,” Bev started. 

“That’s where things ended, right? And that’s the one thing I don’t remember and…” 

Eddie looked to Stan, now, who only shrugged. 

“I’m following your lead,” he said. 

“Neibolt it is, then,” Mike said, solemnly. 

Goosebumps rose on their skin, and for a moment no one made a move. They stayed in front of the Derry sign, staring at each other. 

“I hate this place so much,” Richie mumbled, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. 

“One last time,” Bev said. 

“One last time,” Mike repeated. 

Slowly, they made their way back to the cars and drove into town, a deep sense of dread and fear overcoming all of them the further they went. 

_ One last time, just one last time, _ Richie said to himself. 


	11. Stanley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Uris dries himself off.

Patricia Blum-Uris lied the first time, saying she had felt something off on the day Stanley took his life. She had not, in fact, felt anything different that day until she found him in the tub, his wrists slit so deep it nearly caused her to faint. 

But today was different. Pulling into the driveway, sun setting behind her, something felt very wrong. She would remember this feeling for the rest of her life, she made sure to make a note of it. She did not know, however, that today was the day she would get her life back.

It had been almost three weeks since Stan had passed, two weeks since the funeral, and an eternity since she had felt like her normal self. The trash bin wasn’t at the curb where she’d left it this morning. She began to wonder if she’d left it out at all, if her mind really was getting as weak as her mother insisted. She sighed, knowing she’d have to wait until next week by which time the dozen casseroles in the trash would go bad, for sure. 

She couldn’t stand the sight or the smell of them anymore. Concerned neighbors and friends bringing pyrex dishes full of goop that made her stomach recoil at the sight of them. Sure, they were being polite, they were trying to comfort her, give her one less thing to worry about. 

She’d turned the car off and dropped back in her seat, shutting her eyes. For a moment, she thought she heard the soft sounds of Stan’s favorite record playing. But these days she heard Stan in almost everything she did. She hated coming home at all, because it wasn’t a home anymore. 

Not without him. 

Now it was just a big empty box. 

But on this late summer day, on the hottest day of the year, Patricia stared at her beautiful big empty box of a house, with its beautiful lawn, and thought of the beautiful home she had made inside, and felt something new. 

Every night before, she stared up at the house from her driveway, dreading the moment she would have to go inside. 

The house looked the same, but every corner of her reminded her of the life stolen away, taken too soon.

Was it fear? It felt like it. Like the moments before she’d opened the bathroom door that night, the moment when she’d called out for him and heard nothing but water dripping from the faucet. 

No, no this was different. Her chest ached, but it was not from fear, it was from something new. 

_ Hope,  _ said a little voice in the back of her head, but hope for what? 

She shook the thought from her head, and told herself that there was nothing wrong. 

It was another day, and that was that. 

But the sound of the record player coming from their living room made her heart sink. She hadn’t left it on. She hadn’t touched it in weeks, in fact. 

Slowly, she crept through the house, holding her keys ready just in case…

“Patty?” 

Her heart stopped and she froze in place. 

There, on the couch just as it had been three weeks earlier, Stanley sat. A book in his lap, a cup of tea next to him, dressed in his thick, winter clothes, the ones she’d packed up and marked for Goodwill that sat outside her bedroom door, looking up at her. 

All she remembered was that she had screamed at the sight of him. She doesn’t remember what happened after that. When she opened her eyes, she was lying on the couch, Stan kneeling beside her, running his hand through her hair, 

“Hey there babylove,” he said, softly, smiling at her. “It’s okay.” 

She could feel her body seize up in terror, 

“You’re not real,” she mumbled, staring at him. 

He took her hand in his, and she could only think of how cold he felt to touch, not like the Stan she remembered. 

“I am,” he said, pressing his lips gently to her hand, “I’m here.” 

“You died,” she whispered. He nodded.

“But I’m back now,” he said. He looked real enough, felt real enough, even if he was colder than normal. That was her Stanley, right beside her. She felt calm but another, more sensible part of her broke through, screaming that this wasn’t real. 

She bolted upright, still staring at him. “Show me your hands,” she said. He knew what she wanted, and he obliged, holding both his hands out to her, palms up. 

The scar on his palm was gone, he never could remember how he got it, and his answer had always been childhood antics, but they both knew that wasn’t right. 

Two new scars on his wrists were there, now. They were long, deep gashes that had since healed over. She ran her thumbs over them, the cool, smooth skin sending a shock through both of them, judging by the way Stan flinched. 

There had been nights in the past week where she would awake with the feeling of him right beside her, as if his arm was still wrapped around her waist, or his face buried in the crook of her neck. But he was never there when she woke, it was only ever a dream. 

But this...this was real. She had wanted so badly for it to be real, and it finally was. 

“What happened?” she asked, looking up at him, tears in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed instead, and looked at her. 

“It’s very hard to explain,” he started, “but I’m going to do my best and try.” 

“Why...Stan, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice trembling. 

He smiled at her again, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear,

“A lot,” he said, “a lot’s going on. And you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I need you to stay with me on this, okay?” 

She nodded, searching his face for something,  _ anything  _ that told her what was happening. 

She sat up straight on the couch as Stan took the spot beside her.

“You always asked about my hometown,” he started, “and I never told you much, because I couldn’t remember much of it. But...things are changing.” 

She sat and listened to him. They took pauses, moved themselves around the living room, around the kitchen. 

Stan told her everything, from his friends in middle school, to the monsters they fought, to the oath they made. 

It sounded like something out of a book, was her first reaction. But every time she cut him off, he would stop and hear her out. 

He was in no rush to finish his story, what he wanted was for her to believe him. 

And the strangest part of it all was that she did. From the first words he spoke, she believed him, and she believed every word after that, no matter how far fetched it seemed. 

A demon that took the form of a killer clown? Eating the children of the town? 

Sure, why not? Of course that happened. It would make a lot of sense, wouldn’t it?

A demon clown that comes back every twenty seven years? And brought back the memories they’d all forgotten? 

It definitely explained a lot about him.

“Do you believe me?” he finally asked. He sounded embarrassed, but held her gaze the entire time. They were back on the couch. Stan sat back, relaxed into it, very unlike his self. She sat on the edge, her hands clasped together.

She nodded, taking his hands in hers again. 

“Do you think I’m crazy?” he asked. 

“A little bit,” she said. 

“I know what it must sound like,” he started, looking away. He shut his eyes tight, a few tears escaping. She brushed a finger over his cheek, wiping them away. 

“It sounds like one of those awful books you brought home,” she said. This made him laugh, head thrown back, a full belly laugh that she hadn’t heard in so long, something she desperately needed to hear over and over. And the sound of it made her cry.

“You mean those Denbrough books?” he asked. 

“Yeah, your friend, right? Bill?” 

He nodded, still chuckling, 

“But I guess it makes sense now, why his books sound like that,” she thought out loud. 

“It does, doesn’t it?” he replied. 

“I still don’t understand how...how you…” She trailed off, unable to finish her thought. Stanley brought her hands to his lips again,

“Neither do I,” he said, softly, “but I need to find out.” 

“Why?” 

“Because...something’s changed. Not just that I’m back, but...something’s changed back in Derry, with the others,” he said, looking off into the distance again. 

He’d been doing that more and more lately. 

The first time had been when he’d received the first phone call. 

And tonight, throughout his story, there were moments where he would pause and stare through her. It frightened her, the way a darkness came over his eyes and left him frozen in place. 

But he always came back with a smile, asking her where he’d left off. 

“I need to see them. I need to talk to them.”

“Tonight?” she asked. 

He looked at the clock, it was nearly one in the morning. 

Wherever the others were, it would still be too late to call. 

But something nagged at him inside, a thought that wouldn’t let him move until he’d called. 

“Yes,” he finally said, “tonight.” 

“Who’re you going to call?” she asked. 

“Mike,” he said, without hesitation. 

“He’s called before,” Patty said quietly. 

“Yes, he was the one who called me that night when…” he trailed off. 

She wanted to push that thought as far out of her mind as she could.

“I meant after that,” she said. “He called a few days after.”

“He has?” 

“The night after you...the night after it happened. They called to ask about you. But Mike called again after I sent those letters of yours out.” 

“You had a funeral for me?” 

Why he had gotten stuck on this point, she didn’t understand.

Had she not told him that? 

She’d had a funeral. She’d buried him, watched the casket lowered into the grave. It had all happened so suddenly, but she remembered that moment clearly. 

His friends had showed up. She didn’t know Stanley had had so many friends from childhood, or that they would all show up. 

They stood around her, holding her, whispering words of peace and assurance to her. 

Certainly she hadn’t dreamed that part. 

But now she was stuck on that, too. Was his grave still there? If she went there, right now, would she find the headstone with Stanley’s name on it? Or would it have disappeared the same as he had reappeared? 

It took their attention away from everything else for a moment, and his eyes became distant again. 

“Yeah, I did. They all came, actually. Your friends. All of them, except for one…” 

“Eddie,” he whispered. 

“Yes, they said he’d passed, too,” she said. 

He nodded, the darkness coming over his eyes again. 

“You knew that?” she asked. 

“There was a moment before I woke up, it was like a dream, almost. I saw all of us sitting together, our group, but I only spoke to Eddie. I said we were home.” 

She stared at him, in a mix of horror and confusion. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, Patty,” he whispered, helplessly, “but I need to find the others. I need to find them and figure this out.” 

She nodded, still scared at the change in him. 

“His number’s saved in my phone,” Patty said quietly, sliding it over to him.

He kissed her again, just as soft and just as gentle as the other times tonight. But this time, he wasn’t as cold. In fact, it felt like he was beginning to warm up, feeling like normal again. She took comfort in him, in the weight of his presence. She wanted to remember each second as best as she could, just in case….

_ No more thoughts like those, _ she told herself.  _ He’s back, back with you, and that’s all that matters. _

He dialed the number and set it to speaker. 

Mike’s voice came through, worried and urgent, 

“Patty?” she asked. 

“Hi Mike,” she spoke, her voice cracking, “I’m sorry to call so late I just…” 

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” he asked quickly. 

“Yes, yes I’m okay, I just. I needed to talk to you.” 

She looked to Stan and nodded. He took a deep breath, 

“Mike,” he started, his voice trembling, “hi.” 

Mike was silent on the other end, but she could hear him take a sharp breath

“Stan?” he whispered. 

He laughed, his smile wavering slightly, overcome with tears. 

“Yeah, it’s me, it’s really good to hear your voice,” he said. She heard the same laugh from Mike’s end, a laugh through tears, 

“You’re...you’re okay?” he asked, hesitantly. 

“Yeah, I’m great, I’m okay,” he said. 

She could see him relax, talking to him, telling him the story of what happened. Mike offered some details about what happened to them, but not enough for her to understand. It was almost like a code they were speaking to each other. 

“We need to see you,” Mike said, quickly. 

“That’s what I was thinking. Where can I meet you all?” 

“New York. I was heading there to see Ben and Bev. Can you meet us there?” he asked. 

Stan looked to Patty, and she nodded, rubbing his back gently. 

“We can be there tomorrow night,” he said. 

“Good,” Mike replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll call the others.” 

“I’ll see you soon, Mike,” Stan said, and there was genuine happiness behind his voice, and Patty had almost forgotten what that sounded like. 

“See you soon, Stan,” he said. “And Stan?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Be careful,” Mike said, his voice low. 

Stan smiled, 

“I will be,” he said. 

Their phone call ended and Stan slumped back into his seat, Patty’s hand still rubbing his shoulders, 

“We’ll need to pack,” she said, mostly to herself. 

“That can wait,” he said, pulling her into his lap. 

“And we’ll need to buy our tickets, unless you want to drive?” she asked. 

He made a face, the same face he would make when Patty’s mother came over unannounced, the same face he made when the neighbors came over with their  _ very special _ pot pie, the face he made when he was not in the mood for it at all, scrunching his nose and shaking his head. 

She couldn’t help but smile. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him softly, and could feel him smile through it. 

“I’m exhausted,” he said, finally. “Come to bed?” he asked. Patty nodded, and he quickly stood up, scooping her into his arms, bridal style. She buried her face into his chest, holding him tight the entire way up to their bedroom. 

That night, she slept soundly, no nightmares waking her at an ungodly hour, and the feeling of his hand around her waist was as real as ever. 

She curled herself into him as much as she could, fearing that if she let go, even for a second, he would disappear, and she would find this to be just another one of her dreams. 

He felt the same way, it seemed, with how tightly he held her against his chest. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited moment, an even longer chapter.

The house on Neibolt was gone. The others remembered watching it as the ground swallowed it up that night, but today it looked as if it had never been there at all. 

There, the eight of them stood on the empty street, staring at an empty dirt lot. 

“Am I the only seeing an empty lot?” Eddie asked, looking down the line of them. 

They shook their heads. 

“After we got out, it was like the ground opened up and just...ate it whole,” Bill said. 

“And you guys left Eddie in there?” Stan asked, looking at them. The judgement in his voice was not lost on any of them. 

Patty looked them up and down, 

“Ben could’ve carried him out at the very least,” she said. “With help it shouldn’t have been too hard.” 

It hurt more to hear it from Patty.

They looked at Eddie, he kept his eyes on them, waiting for an answer.

Mike and Bill looked to each other, both of them trying to say something.

“For the record, I was not involved in that decision,” Richie said, holding a hand up. Eddie smiled at him.

“It...wasn’t, um...our finest hour?” Bill offered. 

Patty and Stan rolled their eyes in unison. It was scary how in sync they were with each other. 

“So now what?” Stan asked. 

Bill looked ready to speak, 

“Don’t say the sewers,” Richie said, cutting him off. 

“But…” Bill started. 

Stan and Richie shook their heads. Bill closed his mouth and looked away. The others looked at each other, but they all shrugged, 

“Can we just make it fast? This is still Derry and it’s still creepy as fuck this late at night,” Eddie said. 

The others nodded in agreement. 

“So...townhouse?” Ben suggested. 

Eddie’s face went white as a sheet, but still he nodded.

“Yeah, okay sure, we’ll go there,” he said. 

Richie tried to meet his eyes, tried to see if he was okay, but Eddie only stared ahead at where the house once stood. 

“Come on,” Richie mumbled to him, patting him on the back. Eddie nodded, his movements almost mechanical, and walked back to the car. 

The bad feeling Richie had yesterday morning had returned. Only this time, it was worse.

***

As they pulled into the parking lot of the Townhouse, the others continued talking and headed inside. Richie was the last to leave his car. 

“Hey Rich,” Stan called. The others went ahead, but Stan motioned for him to stay back. 

“What’s up?” Richie asked, walking back towards him. Eddie looked back at him, but Richie nodded.

“You tell me,” he countered. 

Richie looked at him, confused. Stan sighed, but watched him closely.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice was quiet enough so that only he could hear him. 

For once, Richie let his smile fade. 

“I don’t know, man,” he said. 

“At Eddie’s place,” Stan started. Richie rolled his eyes, “you haven’t said anything about it.” 

“We were in separate cars,” Richie pointed out. Stan said nothing. “I don’t really know what to say.” 

“What happened back there?” he asked. 

“Eddie’s marriage is over,” he said. 

“I know but…” 

“She blames me,” Richie said, cutting him off. 

“Blames you?” he asked. Richie nodded, 

“She said I was the reason he was leaving her, and…” his voice cracked as he tried to continue. By this point, Stan and Richie leaned against his car, the others huddled together further away. “She said that I was the one who got him killed in the first place.” 

“Bullshit,” Stan said immediately. 

Richie shrugged, 

“I mean, I did, didn’t I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, a few tears falling down his cheek. “I was the reason he died. He died trying to save me and…” 

“Bull. Shit.” Stan’s voice grew slightly, an edge to his voice now. “Eddie died because of that fucking monster,  _ not _ you.” 

Richie only shook his head, 

“And Eddie knows that, too,” he said. 

Richie looked behind him, through the window he could see the rest of the group sitting in the living room talking animatedly. 

“I can’t get this feeling out of me, ever since Eddie came back...it’s like, I don’t know, like…” 

“Like you’ll do anything to make things right,” Stan finished. Richie nodded. 

“Like there’s nothing I can really do to make up for everything that happened, but I want to. So bad.” 

“You will. You already have, in fact.” 

Richie turned back to Stan. 

“You’re with him and you love him, and he knows that. He knows you love him and…” 

“Well…” Richie started, cutting him off. Stan’s eyes narrowed, 

“What do you mean ‘well’?” he asked. 

“I haven’t exactly...said it yet?” 

Stan stared at him, his eyes burning through Richie so hard, he had to look away. 

“What’ve you guys been talking about?” he asked. 

“We’ve just been  _ trying  _ to talk! But every time we start, someone either interrupts us or we get into an argument!” 

“Stop arguing with him, then!” Stan exclaimed. 

“It’s not my fault!” 

“Richie…” Stan said, sternly. 

“I just...I’m still processing all of this.” 

“Process faster.” 

“Oh thanks, man, yeah that really helps!” 

“Do you need me to lock you two into a room or something?” he asked. 

“What?” 

“Because I will. I will lock you two into a room and I won’t let either of you out until you tell each other you love each other.” 

They stared at each other, and Richie smiled. 

“I missed you, Stan,” Richie finally said. 

Stan smiled,

“I missed you too, buddy,” he said, quietly. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do anything for you before,” he said. 

“Don’t be,” Stan said, waving him off. “I got a second chance. No use in wasting it on thinking about what happened before.” 

“But I’m just saying that…” 

“Did you not read my letter at all? I made you promise me something.” 

“Yeah about those letters,” Richie said, ignoring him. “What the fuck? Do you know how creepy that was? ‘This isn’t a suicide note you guys but here’s why I didn’t show up’! What the fuck?” 

“First of all, stop avoiding the topic, Tozier, and second? I thought it would be nice for you guys to have something from me like that, sorry if the sentiment was lost on you.” 

Richie couldn’t help but smile, and after a second, neither could Stan. 

“What did I make you promise me?” Stan asked. 

“To be brave,” Richie said, quietly. 

“So be brave, Rich,” Stan urged. “Stop wasting this. The way you look at Eddie, I know what that’s like. Patty hasn’t stopped looking at me like that since I woke up, and it makes you feel small. It makes you feel like...like none of this is real, because if the person you love most can’t accept it? Then this isn’t really your life, is it? It’s all some dream, or a sadistic level of hell.” 

“So she told you, huh?” he asked. 

“Told me what?” Stan asked. 

“About our conversation…? At Ben’s place?” 

Stan looked at him, confused. Richie shook his head, somewhat surprised and relieved Patty hadn’t mentioned anything to him at all. 

“Forget it, it’s nothing.” 

Stan sighed, 

“Tell him you love him or I’ll tell him myself,” he said. 

“Be my fucking guest!” Richie exclaimed. “It’d make my life a hell of a lot easier!” 

“Tell him,” Stan repeated. 

Richie sighed dramatically, dropping his head back, whining. 

“Fine! I’ll tell him I love him and all that shit, but only because you’re making me,” he mumbled. 

“Good man,” Stan said. “But maybe brush your hair it looks like a bird’s nest,” Stan mumbled, poking at the curls sticking up on all sides. 

Richie smiled, 

“Get your binoculars, old man, you might find something interesting up there,” he said, sticking his head in Stan’s face. Stan moved out of the way, but still smiled at him. 

Richie pulled him in for a hug, and held on tight. 

He’d gotten his best friends back, and there was a sense of relief he’d never felt before. He wondered just how long it had been since he’d felt at peace like this. 

Stan hugged him back just as tight, and if Richie heard his breath hitch, or felt a couple of tears fall onto his shirt, he said nothing about it. 

When he pulled back, Richie patted Stan’s face, 

“Start with the kissing bridge,” Stan said. 

Richie’s eyes grew wide, 

“What-” 

“I know about that, yeah,” Stan said. 

“How?” 

Stan raised his eyebrows, still smiling. 

“No seriously how do you…” Stan only shook his head.

“Start with that. It might make it easier to get the conversation going.” 

Richie smiled, and turned around, one arm around Stan’s shoulders, the other in his jacket pocket. 

How he had lived without Stan all these years, he didn’t know. 

***

“Does no one work here? Like, at all?” Richie asked as soon as they entered. 

The place looked exactly the same. No one at the front desk, the bar somehow still fully stocked, and all the rooms vacant. 

The others emerged from the living room as Richie and Stan entered. Richie kept his arm around Stan and walked him through the building. 

“The window that Bowers jumped through is still broken,” Ben said, leaning against the doorway.

“Guess we know which room’s mine,” Eddie said. 

“Bowers?” Stan asked, looking at Eddie. 

Eddie pointed at the scar on his cheek, but Stan looked even more confused. 

“He was here last time?” he asked. 

Richie, Eddie, and Bev looked between each other. 

“Did we not tell you that part?” Richie asked, taking a step back from him.. 

“Bowers stabbed me in the face!” Eddie said. It was the glee in his voice that brought Stan the most horror. He’d been stabbed in the face and...laughing about it? 

“And Eddie stabbed Bowers with the same knife,” Bev added. 

Stan’s eyes were wide in shock,

“What the fuck?” he whispered, confused. 

Richie and Eddie burst into laughter, 

“I can’t believe we didn’t tell you!” Eddie said. 

“What’d you think that scar was from?” Richie asked.

Stan shrugged, 

“Apparently Bowers was possessed by Pennywise,” Bev told him. 

“I mean, that makes sense,” Stan said, “but why’d he stab you?” 

“Fuck if I know, man,” Eddie said. 

“In the face?” Stan asked again, or rather, whispered it, still looking horrified. 

Eddie nodded, smiling. Though his smile was more of a smirk, now, Richie noted. He couldn’t smile fully, anymore, the placement of his scar made the right side of his mouth look perpetually numb. 

Eddie pointed to it, 

“Yup,” he said. 

“Ben stitched it up for him,” Richie said. 

Stan shook his head, rubbing his face, 

“I hate this fucking town,” he mumbled. 

Richie threw his arm around him again and walked him towards the bar, 

“We all do, buddy,” he said. 

“Wait, what happened to Bowers?” Stan asked, looking back as the group followed. 

“Richie killed him,” Mike said, nonchalantly. 

Stan pulled away from Richie quickly, staring at him, his mouth hanging open. 

“What?” Richie asked. 

“You killed Bowers?” he asked. 

Richie shrugged, tossing a handful of the bar mix into his mouth, 

“Yeah,” he said. “In the library. He was trying to kill Mike and so I killed him.”

Stan looked around at the group who were not at all surprised by this information, greatly contrasting his own face that looked as if he was about to faint. 

“What the fuck happened?” Stan asked. 

“If you had showed up you wouldn’t be this confused,” Richie said, pouring shots out for everyone. 

Stan picked one up immediately and downed it in one go, his eyes shut tight. 

“Fuck this place,” he mumbled. 

“Fuck this place!” Richie repeated brightly, raising his glass in the air and pouring Stan another, 

The others followed, tapping their glasses together, throwing it back fast. 

It was silent as they all winced at the taste, 

“Room keys,” Mike said, setting them down in front of them, “I think we should get some rest and start in the morning.” 

It was almost one in the morning. 

“What are we even starting on?” Richie asked. Mike opened his mouth to speak, “Please don’t say we have to split up and find tokens again,” Richie interrupted. 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Mike said, sighing, “I just meant that we should get some rest and we’ll figure it out in the morning.” 

“I like the sound of that.” 

“Everyone okay?” Ben asked. They all nodded, but none of them looked at each other. Ben sighed, 

“It’s been a long day, I think we’ll be better in the morning,” Stan said. 

Richie poured himself one last shot, Eddie sat with his head down on bar, and the others grabbed their keys and left them. 

“What’s on your mind, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked. 

“Don’t,” Eddie mumbled without looking up. 

Richie leaned against the bar, his arms crossed under him, 

“You okay?” he asked, quieter this time. 

“I just ended my marriage and came back to Derry,” he said.

“Yeah that’s...that’s rough,” Richie said, unsure of what else to do right now. He drank his shot a little slower this time. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie started. 

Richie nodded, in spite of himself. 

“Earlier, when you said you had those dreams about me?” 

Richie’s stomach dropped, 

“What’d you see?” he asked. 

Richie opened his mouth to answer, but Eddie cut him off, 

“And not what you’ve been telling us so far. There’s more to it and you’re not telling anyone,” he said. 

“What?” he asked, surprised. 

“I know you, Rich, and I know when you’re holding back,” Eddie said, quietly.

Richie sighed, 

“They always start with us at the quarry. After Neibolt, we went swimming there, like we used to. That’s where my dreams start, but then I see you. You’re standing in the water with us, but you’re at the other end. I always try to swim to you but that’s when it changes. Next thing I know, we’re sitting in the field again, all seven of us. And I look around and we look how we do now, and you and Stan are okay but it’s like… it’s like this light around you guys, like a full halo. And then the dream ends but, the way an old movie ends where the projector starts to flicker but instead of the picture fading, there’s blood, soaking through it. And I wake up, yelling your name.” 

Richie spoke slowly and thoughtfully. His eyes looked past Eddie, focusing on the wall behind him, his eyes glossed over. 

Eddie’s head was spinning as Richie spoke, a wave of nausea coming over him. 

“I see why you didn’t tell anyone that,” Eddie mumbled. 

Richie nodded, 

“Listen, Rich…” he started. 

The thundering of steps coming down the stairs both jolted them, turning to look out, 

“There are rats in my room,” Bill said, uneasily. He looked as though he was about to faint. “And the one next to it,” he continued. 

“Which one?” Richie asked. 

“Rooms five and six,” he said. 

Eddie looked down at the keys Mike had left for them. One was for room eight, the other for room six. 

He rolled his eyes. 

“That sucks, man,” Richie said. 

“Just take one of the others,” Richie said. 

Bill shook his head, his features pinched in what he could only think of as horror. 

Mike had come out of his room, too. 

“The others are locked, and we can’t find their keys,” Mike said. 

“And the only one left is next to Stan and Patty’s,” Bill said.

They all nodded in understanding. 

“Eight is the only room left,” Mike said, “but I’ve got room for one person in mine,” he said, but they all knew he was talking to Bill. 

Bill walked back up the stairs, wordlessly, and Mike shrugged. 

“We’ll take the other one,” Eddie called out. 

He turned back to Richie who looked panicked, his mouth hanging slightly open, 

“What?” he asked. 

Richie sighed and shook his head, 

“I’m tired man,” Eddie started, “I just wanna go to bed,” he said. 

Richie gave him another funny look, but moved on. 

It wasn’t until they reached the room that Eddie realized what he meant. 

There was only one bed. 

There was no couch in the room one of them could volunteer to take, and even the floor looked dusty and decrepit. The bed seemed to shine as their only choice.

Just one king sized bed in the center of the room. 

Eddie stared at the bed a little longer than he should’ve. It was the one he’d woken up in just two days ago. 

_ God _ ,  _ that feels like a lifetime ago, _ he thought. 

There was a new energy in the room, it felt like. Something had changed, but when he woke up two days ago in this bed, it felt as though something had been weighing him down, choking him until he finally came up for air. 

Tonight, however, that energy had lifted. It still wasn’t a normal room, not by far, but it was different. Instead of an unseen weight holding him down, it almost seemed to glow, as if welcoming them back. It felt as though it were pulling him closer, dragging him back to this spot. 

“Alrighty then,” Eddie mumbled. 

The two of them stood in the doorway, looking inside, neither one ready to step in yet. 

“I call the left side,” Richie said, entering the room.

Sure, there was only one bed, but he was exhausted and the urge to flop down on top of it was stronger than anything else on his mind right now. 

Richie threw his jacket off onto one of the chairs in the corner and threw himself onto the bed. 

Eddie stared at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to say something. 

Richie said nothing. His eyes were closed and his hands were folded on his chest. He opened one eye to look at Eddie, 

“You coming to bed?” he asked. 

Eddie’s cheeks went bright red. He knew Richie always chose his words carefully, even if they didn’t always sound like it. 

He knew what he was doing.

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Eddie mumbled. 

Carefully, Eddie peered into the bathroom where the window was still broken, and the towel rod lay forgotten on the floor. 

“Is that the bathroom Bowers stabbed you in?” Richie asked. 

Eddie nodded, 

“It’s the one I woke up in, too,” he said, quietly. 

Eddie was still standing in the middle of the room, staring out the window. The night was still, but a chill ran through him. 

There was no place in this town that truly felt safe to him, not even inside. 

_ Especially  _ not inside. 

“What was that like?” Richie asked. He sat up in bed, watching him carefully, now. 

“No, not the stabbing,” Richie said, frustratedly. “I mean, waking up here. By yourself.” 

Eddie looked away, and shrugged, 

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” he said, shaking his head. “It was bad. I was scared, Rich.” 

His voice was barely above a whisper, now, and Richie’s heart sank. 

They’d left him all alone, and there was no forgiveness for that. 

“I was alone and I was scared and I screamed for you guys and no one was here and…” 

He trailed off. 

“I’m sorry Eddie,” he mumbled. 

Eddie waved him off, 

“You did what you had to,” he said. 

Richie shook his head. 

“Look, we can talk about this later if you want,” Eddie said. 

“No.” 

Eddie looked surprised at him, at how firmly he’d said no. 

“We need to talk about it. We...we haven’t talked at all and there’s a lot we need to say, a lot  _ I  _ need to say and I think this might be our only chance to talk.” 

Eddie nodded and sat at the foot of the bed. 

“Where do you want to start?” he asked. 

Richie shrugged, 

“That day,” he said. 

Eddie nodded, he knew this was coming. 

“Okay,” he said, quietly. 

“When you pulled me out of the deadlights, I...was gonna say something. Or, actually, I was gonna do something, and then I didn’t get the chance and now you’re back! And that’s great! But I’m still not sure where this leaves us, because there was so much I wanted to say to you then, and it’s not like I’d made peace with the fact that you’d died, but I had kinda accepted it? And now you’re back and I feel like it’s a second chance, because that’s what everyone’s been saying and we need to talk about it but I can’t because I’m afraid you’re not real and you’re gonna disappear again and I’m gonna have done all of this for nothing.” 

Richie talked fast and without stopping, he’d gotten off the bed now and was pacing in front of Eddie. But he looked at Eddie while speaking, and he figured that was a good sign. 

But he was almost out of breath now, and Eddie was slightly concerned. It almost looked like he was dry heaving. Eddie stood up immediately, holding his hands out, ready to catch him if he fell.

“Eddie...I was...I um, right before…” Richie tried to continue, trying to find something to say. He bent over, hands on his knees, head dropped, taking a long and shaky breath. Richie stood up again and shook his head, trying to start over. He’d waited so long for this moment and now it was as if all his words were tangled together and he didn’t know where to start. 

Eddie nodded at him, and while Richie tried to find his words, he silently began to shed his layers. 

First was jacket, thrown behind him. Richie’s eyes followed, but didn’t stay long as Eddie pulled his shirt off next. 

“Okay,” Richie said, staring, “that’s...I guess that’s where I was hoping it would go? But I actually had a lot to say first and…”

Richie stopped. Eddie stood in front of him with shirt off, but Richie’s eyes could only focus on the long scar on his torso. 

“I love you.” 

Eddie blurted it out. Richie’s eyes finally moved off the scar and back up to him, and he stared at him with his mouth hanging open, 

“You…” 

“Oh I had planned that better, I was gonna...I was gonna say a lot more before that I don’t…” Eddie stumbled. 

And for the first time since he’d been back, Richie looked Eddie right in his eyes, and Eddie could see the fear and panic take over him at once.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Eddie said, smiling at him.

Hesitantly, Eddie closed the space between them, taking hold of Richie’s hand, and held it gently, 

“It’s okay,” he said softly. 

Richie’s hand shook in his, but Eddie remained soft to the touch.

Slowly, he brought his hand up to his stomach, gently placing his hand on the scar. His skin was cold, but he’d gotten used to that already. The patch of skin where the scar was slightly raised above the rest, as though it had healed long ago, and all that was left was a fading memory of something terrible.

And...abs? 

“You have abs?” Richie asked all of a sudden, staring at his torso. Eddie looked confused, 

“What?” 

“Are you doing this just to show off your muscles, Eds?” he asked, looking up, smiling deviously at him. “Look at you, Eddie Spaghetti! Not so spaghetti anymore! More like Eddie the…six pack.” 

Richie sighed. He’d really phoned that one in, but in his defense! Eddie had abs and they were making his head spin. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped his hand, this was proving harder than he’d wanted.

“Fuck off, Richie,” he said, turning around. For a brief second, Richie could see a similar scar down his back but he tried to push it out of his mind.

“Wait, wait no, c’mere,” Richie said, laughing, grabbing his arm, pulling him back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Eddie I…” he trailed off. “Just tell me how’re you ripped? That’s not fair, we’re in our forties we should be falling apart.” 

“Someone told me that exercise relieves stress,” Eddie said. 

“And you’ve just never stopped working out since,” Richie finished. 

Eddie smiled sheepishly, 

“Pretty much,” he said. 

“God you’re hot,” Richie said, without thinking. 

Eddie snorted, 

“It’s not that bad, you know, it’s just a scar now,” Eddie said. Richie nodded, 

“I know,” Richie said. “Does it still hurt?” he asked. Eddie shrugged, 

“Not so much,” he said. Richie’s vision blurred, and he blinked back tears. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly. Taking his hand again, Eddie brought it up to the scar. This time, Richie let it stay there, running his fingers over it. 

“But it is,” Richie whispered. Though his head was down, Eddie could see a few small tears running down his cheek. 

Eddie brought his other hand up to Richie’s cheek, 

“It’s not,” he said, firmly this time. “I died because that’s just what happened and there was nothing you could’ve done to change that. But I’m back now!” 

Eddie’s own voice was quiet. 

“I could’ve…” 

“Don’t,” Eddie said, cutting him off. “Stop doing that. We can’t change what happened back there, okay?”

Richie nodded, clearing his throat, 

“But I’m back now, Rich,” he said, softly. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, pulling him into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” Richie mumbled, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s over now,” he said. 

“I love you,” Richie finally said, holding him tighter. 

He had finally said it. He wasn’t sure if this was how he’d imagined saying it, or how he wanted to say it, but he’d said it and there was no changing that. 

And Eddie did not hesitate, he only held him tighter, a shaky hand cradling his head,

“I love you too, Rich,” Eddie said, softly, threading his fingers through his thick, tangled curls, “I love you too.” 

He figured he only had this moment, and Richie finally looked up at him. 

Eddie nodded, 

“You okay?” he asked, quietly. 

Richie stood frozen in place, watching him closely. How many times had he been this close to Eddie before? Always afraid to close the space between them. How many chances had he wasted away in the past? 

But Richie pushed all of that away--what was it Stan had said earlier? I _ got a second chance. No use in wasting it on thinking about what happened before-- _ He took that to heart, now, and cleared his mind faster than ever before, and leaned in and kissed Eddie, his hands cupping his face. 

And to his surprise, Eddie wasted no time either, holding onto Richie’s wrists, kissing him back.

They pulled apart, resting their foreheads against each other, breathing heavily. 

“I…” Richie breathed, 

“How was that?” Eddie asked shyly. 

Richie smiled and kissed him again, 

“Gonna need some work,” Richie said, his lips hovering over his. Eddie pulled his face closer and kissed him again. 

“Still need to talk?” Eddie asked. 

Richie’s smile fell, and he dropped his head. 

“We do,” he said, quietly. 

Eddie nodded. He pulled away, his hands slipping out of Richie’s. 

“So,” Eddie started. “Once and for all, what do you want to talk about?” 

“I love you, Eddie,” Richie said, sitting on the bed. He folded his hands in his lap and kept his eyes on Eddie for once. It felt good saying it out loud. He didn’t want to stop saying it, now.

“I loved you all those years, and I watched you die right in front of me and I...I realized I never even got to tell you that. You were on top of me and I was going to kiss you, the moment I came out of the deadlights, all I wanted to do was kiss you. And then you were gone. But I’m not wasting my chance, now. You were the first person I ever loved, Eddie, and you’re probably the only one I’ve ever loved this much. I don’t wanna lose you again, I can’t.” 

Eddie nodded. He leaned up against the wall across from him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I thought that was gonna take a lot longer, to be honest,” Richie said, laughing nervously, “so not much to talk about there.” 

His leg bounced nervously, 

“I loved you all those years, too,” Eddie said, quietly. 

Richie smiled in relief.

“Since we were little. You were the first person I ever loved, fully. And it was hard to love anybody else,” he said. “I always had this feeling like there was someone else. Like there was someone else out there, waiting for me.” 

“Yeah well with your ex wife I don’t blame you,” Richie said. Eddie tried so smile, but couldn’t. But he moved on quickly,

“The box of pictures...when I left Derry, I took that box with me. It was the only thing I ever kept close to me. If I moved, that box was under my arm, or on the car seat next to me. Wherever I lived, it stayed under my bed or in my closet, but it was always  _ there _ . Ben kept that yearbook page and he still remembered us the clearest. I kept the box but, after a while, it was like I was too afraid to open it. A part of me knew what was in there but another part of me that scared that part away.” 

“So why’d you keep it?” he asked. Eddie shrugged, 

“I needed to. The same part of me that wanted to forget it also told me to keep it. Just in case.” 

“Just in case?” 

Eddie shrugged, 

“It was always a feeling,” he said. 

“There’s a picture missing,” Richie said finally. 

“What?” 

Richie finally looked up at him, and took a deep breath. 

“There were some polaroids in there, but there was always one missing.” 

Richie’s hands were shaking now. 

“There was a polaroid of us. I took it, like a selfie, and when it came out I wrote something on the back of it. I...I had a moment of bravery and wrote it and was gonna give it to you and then...I realized what I was doing and decided not to. I put it in my pocket and forgot about it.” 

“What’d you write?” 

Richie shook his head, 

“I think it fell out of my pocket or something but you found it. You didn’t turn it over or read it, I guess. You took it and put it with the others you took that day. A few days later, when the rest of us were at your house, I saw the box and I took the picture out of it. It’s been stuck in my old yearbook. I didn’t even remember it until I got that box of your pictures.” 

“What’d you write?” Eddie asked again. 

Richie smiled, 

“It just said I love you, Eds.” 

He looked up, but Eddie’s face was turned down. He was smiling, though. 

“I thought you’d stopped calling me that,” Eddie finally said. 

Richie laughed, lifting his head up. 

“We were kids,” he said, shrugging. 

Eddie smiled, 

“We always end up back at that, don’t we?” Eddie said. 

“We always end up back together,” Richie said. “But for some reason, always at the end of the world,” Richie added. 

“It’s not the end,” Eddie said. 

“How do you know? When all of us are in this town it’s always when the world’s about to end.” 

“But we always beat it, don’t we?” 

“Not last time.”

“Last time was an outlier. Didn’t count.” 

“But this one counts?” 

“Cause this one’s not the end of the world, Rich,” he said, quietly. 

“How are you sure?” 

“Something’s telling me. It’s like that voice, all those years ago that told me to keep the box. It’s telling me that this, right here, where we are right now, is something different. But it’s not the end of the world.” 

“I can’t lose you again, Eds,” Richie said, trying hard to keep his smile up. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, but kept smiling. He moved away from the wall, moving towards Richie. 

“You’re not gonna lose me, Rich,” he said, crouching down to his eye level, “We’ve got each other now. Nothing’s changing that.” 

“Pretty chipper for a dead guy,” he said. 

Eddie’s hand cupped his cheek, slowly curling his fingers beneath his chin, lifting him up until their eyes met. 

“I just got you back, too,” he said, “I’m not giving that up.” 

Something caught in the back of Richie’s throat, a choked sob coming out in place of whatever he wanted to say. 

“I love you, Eddie.” 

He couldn’t say it enough. No matter how much he said it, it was like the first time saying it all over again. He could repeat it for the rest of his days and he knew it would still never be enough. 

He’d spent so long without him, spent all his life wondering what could’ve happened if he had just said it once, said it earlier. 

But he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He was going to say it as many times as he could. 

He closed the space between them, quick, and kissed him. 

Eddie’s hand moved to cradle his neck, holding him in place as he kissed him back. 

Richie doesn’t remember what happened after that. 

Not the small stuff, like when they fell onto the bed, or when Richie’s own shirt came off. But he remembers everything else. How soft Eddie’s hands felt over him, that his touch was no longer cold to him. 

He remembers the grazing of teeth down his neck, and the soft moans muffled by deep, desperate kisses. 

He remembers Eddie’s lips pressing down his back, Eddie’s name spilling from his own lips like a hushed prayer. 

He remembers the way Eddie looked at him, his eyes wide, watching him close, 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

That was the clearest memory of them all. 

“I love you, too,” Richie said, kissing him. 

When he awoke the next morning, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, the slow and even breathing made him relax. He was still cold, Richie noted, but maybe it was the blankets over them, or his own body heat covering them both, but Eddie started to feel like...Eddie, again. He felt warm, and... _ real _ .

There was sunlight coming through the window, for once, and the rest of the world was silent, just for a moment, and Richie closed his eyes again, let himself drift back to sleep, even if only for a moment. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm hanging by a thread and I've never felt so alive  
To the very last minute  
We will always be death defying

The banging on their door startled them awake, both still wrapped around each other, Richie and Eddie looked to each other, and then to the door. 

“Guys!” Bill’s muffled voice rang out, “Guys wake up! Get out here, now!” 

“That’s not good,” Richie mumbled. Eddie’s hands had made their way back into his hair, 

“He’s not gonna stop,” Eddie said. 

Richie groaned, sitting up, 

“Guess we should see what he wants,” Richie said between yawns. 

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. 

Neither one made a move to leave, but sat there instead. Eddie sat propped up against the headboard, and Richie sat hunched forward, face in his hands. 

“How’d you sleep?” Eddie finally asked. 

Richie thought about it for a moment. 

He’d slept the whole night through, for once. No dreams or nightmares to wake him up abruptly, no blood filling his vision, and no screams. 

"Better than I have in a long time," he said, surprised at his answer.

He turned back to look at Eddie, who smiled softly, 

“I’m glad,” he said. 

“What about you?” he asked, pushing himself back so they sat shoulder to shoulder. 

Eddie hesitated, 

“I had a dream,” he said, unsure of himself. Richie’s heart stopped. 

“About what?” he asked. Eddie shook his head. 

“Water?” he said. 

“What?” 

Eddie’s eyes were distant, glossed over as he thought, 

“I dreamt I was in water. I don’t remember anything else, just...that.” 

Just then, there was another knock at the door, this one more restrained and polite. 

“Eddie?” Stan called out. “I need to talk to you,” he said. 

Eddie sighed,

“Yeah I’ll be there in a sec,” Eddie called back. He dropped his head into his hands and Richie rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asked, softly. Eddie took a deep breath, and looked back at Richie, kissing him. 

“I’m good,” he said, softly. 

“Guys!” Bill yelled this time.

“In a minute!” Richie yelled back, sitting up. 

They waited until they heard the footsteps receding before Richie got out of bed. 

“First good night’s sleep I get in almost a month and Bill has to ruin it.” 

“Come on,” Eddie said, patting him on the back, “sooner we see what he wants, the sooner we can get the hell outta here.” 

***

Stan waited at the bottom of the staircase leaning against the bannister. He looked up as Eddie and Richie approached, 

“Eddie?” he called. 

“Yeah,” he said, sighing. 

They both knew what this was about. Eddie turned back to Richie, 

“I’ll be there in a sec, tell Bill not to have an aneurysm,” he said. Richie looked at the two of them, concerned. Stan nodded reassuringly and only then did Richie leave them. Stan motioned for Eddie to follow him, the two of them standing in the bar of the townhouse. 

“Did you have another dream last night?” he asked. 

“Yeah, about the water,” he said. 

“Me too,” Stan said, gravely. 

“Do you know what it means?” he asked. Stan shook his head, 

“I have a feeling but I’m not sure,” he said. “You know the story of the turtle Mike was talking about earlier? Back at Ben and Bev’s place?” Stan asked, suddenly. 

Eddie looked at him, confused, 

“You’re not serious,” he said. 

Stan’s face fell, 

“Never mind,” he said, quietly. 

“Stan,” Eddie started, pulling him back. “What about the turtle?” he asked. 

Stan hesitated, 

“Mike was right about the turtle, the one that birthed the universe. I’ve known about for a long time... longer than I can remember, only, I didn’t know it was a Shokopiwah story, I just read it around the time we fought It the first time. A turtle who created the universe, who has the power to give and take life. I always had a feeling It came from the turtle, but I was never sure,” he said. Eddie stared at him and when Stan finally met his eyes, he only laughed, but uncomfortably. “It’s ridiculous, I know.” 

“So is a demon clown,” Eddie said, shrugging. Stan took a shaky breath, 

“This story...it’s been stuck in my head all my life and I don’t know why. Any time in those 27 years I tried to think about home, about you guys, I always...it was always cut off by a thought that wasn’t mine, a little voice that would just say ‘the turtle can’t help us now’ and I...I heard that voice the night Mike called. I heard that voice when I woke up again three days later. When Mike mentioned it back at the house, and Richie asked me if I’d seen it I said no, and it wasn’t a lie! I’ve never _ seen _ the turtle, but its voice has always been with me. And I heard it again…” 

“When we came into Derry last night,” Eddie finished. Stan nodded his head, his lips trembling. He looked away, 

Eddie put his hands on Stan’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, 

“Hey, Stan the man,” he said, softly, waiting until Stan looked back up at him, “we’re gonna be okay.” 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. 

“This town can’t hurt us anymore. We’re here for answers, right?” 

Stan nodded. 

“Then we’re gonna get those answers and we are going to leave, all of us, intact and happy.” 

“A first for us,” he said. 

“We’re working towards that,” Eddie said. “You and I have to do this for the others. We gotta be brave this time, right?” 

Stan nodded his head, wiping away the stray tears that fell down his cheek. 

“I know, I know,” he said, his voice strained. 

“We’re gonna find that fucking turtle and we’re gonna get some answers,” he said. 

“Thanks Eddie,” he said, quietly. Eddie smiled wide, resting his forehead against Stan’s, 

“Losers stick together, man,” he said. 

“Speaking of,” he started, clearing his throat, stepping back from Eddie. “I take it you and Richie finally talked last night?” 

Eddie felt his face burn, his eyes going wide, 

“What, um, what do you-” 

“Walls aren’t that thick, buddy,” Stan said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past. 

“Oh god,” he mumbled before following Stan. 

As they reentered the living room, Richie kept his eyes on Eddie, sitting next to Bev on the couch, the two sharing a blanket. Eddie winked at him, and took the spot on Bev’s right. On instinct, she pulled the blanket over him, too, the three of them now sitting under the warm, musty smelling blanket. 

The others were sat in a circle with chairs dragged from outside the room.

“So,” Richie said, yawning, “why’d you wake me up?” 

Mike sighed, Richie noted how tired he looked, almost despondent. He sat slumped in his chair, watching his hands as Bill spoke. 

“We were talking last night,” Bill started, “And I think we’re coming at this all wrong.” 

“How?” 

“Why did we go to Neibolt, first?” Bill asked. 

“That’s what you two talked about last night?” Stan asked. Mike and Bill looked at him, unsure of what to say. 

“Why?” Bill asked. 

“Just some weird pillowtalk, that’s all,” Stan said, shrugging. Bill’s cheeks went bright red, but continued on, trying to ignore Stan’s comment. 

Stan and Richie both smiled smugly at them. 

“Why did we go to Neibolt, first?” he asked again. 

They shrugged, 

“Because it was the last place we were in?” Richie offered. 

“Exactly! It was the last place we saw It, right? So obviously we went back there. We went back because it’s where Eddie died, and maybe that would give us answers? But...when we killed it, Neibolt went down because that’s where it was getting its energy from. So now what?” 

“Do...do we answer that or…?” Eddie started, looking around. 

“We don’t go back to where we fought _ it _,” Bill continued, “we go to where we found each other.” 

“The quarry,” Stan said, quietly. 

He and Eddie looked at each other, a realization coming over both of them while the others looked on. 

“The turtle can help us,” Stan mumbled, his face blank. Beside him, Patty went white as a sheet and Eddie kept his eyes on both of them. And just as quickly as his face went blank, Stan snapped right back to them. 

“But that’s as far as I could think,” Mike continued. His voice cracked slightly, and the others looked at each other. Mike looked tired, more than before, and they knew something was wrong. Beside him, Ben put his hand on Mike’s shoulders, 

“What’s going on Mikey?” he asked, quietly. 

“I’m sorry guys, I wish I had the answers to this one,” Mike said, quietly. 

Their hearts broke. Mike kept his eyes on the ground, 

“It’s okay, Mike,” Bev said, quietly. 

“You don’t have to have all the answers,” Ben said. 

“But I should!” Mike snapped. “_ I _ was the one here all along! _ I _ was the one putting it all together! If I hadn’t called you guys we wouldn’t be here doing this! And then I promised we were done with everything the last time and we’re back and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

His voice was strained, helpless, on the verge of tears. He dropped his head into his hands and on instinct, the others gathered around him, holding onto him as he trembled. 

They’d broken him with this, and there was no forgiveness in that. All that was left to get this over as soon as possible. Eddie and Stan shared another look, both knowing what they had to do next. 

“You’ve done so well,” Stan said quietly, his hands on his shoulders. “All you’ve ever done is save us. You can rest now, let us take it from here.” 

“I’m the reason you died,” he said, looking up at Stan, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Stan shook his head, 

“You are not,” Stan said, firmly. “Don’t you ever say that again. You are not responsible for what happened to us.” 

“And besides,” Eddie started, “we’re back now so it kinda cancels that part out.” 

Mike’s eyes were shut tight and he shook his head. 

“I thought I was done. I thought...I thought we won,” he said. The last word came out nearly silent, tears welling up. “I don’t know what else is left.” 

“We did win,” Eddie said, softly. “We’re all here, aren’t we?” 

Mike looked up at them, and slowly he blinked away the tears left in his lashes. They were huddled in one group, a familiar place for them. They held onto each other tight, and as strange as it was to think, Mike felt himself truly feeling uplifted, just by the others around him, as though their energy was flowing into him, banishing the dark thoughts and energy from him. 

This was a magical group, he’d thought that on more than one occasion, but tonight he felt it flow once again, and Mike could not be more grateful that, for once, it was under better circumstances. 

When the seven of them were together, incredible things happened. Magic, luck, good fortune, those were other names for it, but Mike knew better. 

They were shining together. 

“Let us take over,” Stan said. 

Mike looked to him, smiling in relief. 

“You got us this far, Mike,” Eddie said, quietly. “You’ve done more than any friend would’ve, and it saved all of us,” Eddie said. 

Tears fell more freely now down Mike’s cheek, but he smiled and nodded. Stan leaned in closer, hugging him, and whispered something to him The others didn’t hear it, but it made Mike laugh. 

They would ask both of them, separately, later on what Stan had said, but neither one would tell. They would smile, and shake their heads. 

“So what’s our plan?” Bill asked, quietly. 

“We’re close,” Stan said, gravely. “I can feel it.” 

“Close to what?” Richie asked. 

Stan shook his head, 

“I don’t know but…” 

“I feel it, too,” Eddie said, quietly. 

Richie looked at him in fear.

“I can’t explain it but…” 

“It’s like we’re being pulled,” Stan said. 

Eddie nodded, 

“Something in town is pulling us towards it, and it has been this whole time.”

“But...Eddie you woke up in Derry,” Bev said. “So why wouldn’t it pull you back when you first woke up?” 

Eddie looked to Richie, 

“Because I had a better reason to leave,” he said, quietly. 

Richie smiled, and the rest knew well enough. He could see Ben and Bev share a look. 

No one pressed it, 

“So…” Richie started, “what now? We set Eddie and Stan out in town like Lassie? See what they find?” he asked. 

They were snapped back to the moment, 

“I mean...why not?” Eddie said. 

“Anyone got a better idea?” Stan asked. 

They all shook their heads, 

“Where’re you gonna go?” Richie asked. 

Eddie and Stan looked at each other for a moment, 

“The quarry,” they said in unison. 

Richie looked at them in a mix of fear and awe. Whatever brought them back had made them incredibly in sync, too.

“Better than the sewers,” Richie muttered. 

“Just them or…?” Ben asked. 

“We’re not splitting up again,” Mike said, standing up. The others fell away from him, pulling back and slowly standing to their feet. But for just a brief second, they all kneeled while Mike stood and when Richie would think back on it later, he would always remember that moment as something like poetry in motion.

“So we all go,” Bill said, standing up next to Mike. The two shared a look unreadable to the room, but Richie knew better. He knew that look well, and knew it to be the very one he and Eddie shared the night before.

Slowly, the others followed suit. 

As the others filed out of the room, Richie pulled Eddie back, the two standing only inches apart, 

“We should, uh, we should talk later,” Richie said quietly. “About what happened.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled, and Richie couldn’t help himself, either. 

“We’ve got time, Rich,” he said quietly. 

Richie pressed a light kiss to his cheek and pushed him forward, catching up with the rest. 

“So,” Bev started from behind Richie. 

He jumped, not realizing she’d been there, 

“Looks like you two talked,” she said, smiling slyly. 

Richie felt his cheeks burn, and looked away, 

“Is Richie Tozier blushing?” Bev teased, her voice rising slightly, pinching his cheeks, 

“Well it’s about time, don’t you think? Been making every single one you guys blush all these years, about time one of you returned the favor,” he said. 

“I’m proud of you, Richie,” she said, holding onto his arm. 

“Me too,” he said, softly. Bev took his hand, still smiling at him,

“Come on, before we lose the rest of them.” 

Richie and Bev were the last to walk out of the townhouse, joining the rest of the group. The sun shone brightly on all of them, and for once in his life, Richie had a good feeling about this place. 

He looked to Stan who motioned toward Eddie. Richie sighed, but Stan’s stare became stern. 

He knew what he had to do first. Richie nodded and as he bounded down the steps, he made a beeline for Eddie, 

“Come with me for a second,” he said, quietly. Eddie looked at him, worried, 

“What’re you talking about? We’re heading out,” he said. 

“Just, come with me, okay? I need to do something before we go. I can’t let it wait any longer,” he said. 

“Richie I’m not having a quickie in the townhouse while they all head for the quarry,” he said. 

“What? No, I’m not--wait, so does that mean it’s out of the question entirely or…”

“Dude!” Eddie said, sternly. 

“Okay, fine whatever just...I need to show you something,” he said. 

Eddie watched him for a moment, and finally nodded. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” 

“We’ll meet you guys there!” Richie shouted, pulling Eddie in the opposite direction. 

“Where are you guys going?” Bill shouted. 

Richie only waved back at them, pulling Eddie along.

***

Richie walked ahead alone, Eddie walking slowly, trailing behind watching him. They walked alongside the bridge, Richie’s hand running over it, quietly talking to himself. 

Eddie knew what he was going to show him, there was no other reason to be at the kissing bridge, he thought. 

But he wanted to hear it from Richie. He needed to hear it from him.

“Here,” Richie finally said. He looked at the spot a moment before taking a step back. “Over here.” 

It was quiet between them, the crushed gravel beneath their shoes the only sound now. But Eddie took his time, he knew Richie’s heart was racing, but it felt as if he couldn’t move any faster, as though time had slowed down around him. Until he was finally facing the bridge, his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. 

“Right there,” Richie said, quietly, pointing to a specific carving. 

The letters _ R + E _were carved into the bridge. Eddie looked down the bridge for only a second before looking back at him, 

“You carved our initials,” he said, softly. 

Richie nodded, smiling slightly. 

“After Neibolt?” he asked. 

“The first time,” Richie said. 

That caught him off guard. 

“The first time?” he repeated. 

“That summer, the first time we got out of Neibolt. I came here by myself and carved it.” 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Why does anyone carve stuff on this bridge?” he replied. 

Eddie didn’t know what to say. 

“The last time we came here, after we got out of Neibolt, after I lost you, I came back here and recarved it. And after last night...I needed to show it to you, in case anything happens to you again.” 

Richie’s head was turned down, kicking at a small rock in front of him. Eddie took pulled his face towards him and kissed him softly, 

Richie smiled into it, and as Eddie pulled away, he sighed, 

“I have to show you something, now, too,” he said, quietly. 

“What?” Richie asked. Eddie motioned for him to follow. 

Exactly ten steps away from Richie’s spot, Eddie kneeled down and brushed his hand over an old carving that read _ E + R _. 

“You…” Richie started. 

Eddie looked up at him, smiling, and nodded, 

“Same story as you. That summer after we got out of Neibolt. The next day, actually, I came and did this.” 

Richie kneeled down now, too, and brushed his thumb over it, a soft and full smile appearing on his face. 

“Great minds, huh,” Eddie said. 

Richie looked up at him, a few stray tears falling down his cheek, 

“I love you, Eddie,” he said, quietly. 

“I love you, too, Richie,” he replied. 

“Why did you want to show me this right now?” Eddie finally asked. Richie sniffled, and took a deep breath, 

“I don’t know what’s about to happen,” he said, shakily, “and we just got each other back, and I needed you to know about this in case…” 

“In case I don’t come back,” Eddie finished. 

Richie nodded, 

“Yeah,” he said, “in case that happens. I don’t wanna leave anything unsaid anymore.” 

“I know, Rich,” Eddie said, softly, taking his hand. “You don’t have to think about that anymore.” 

Richie shook his head, 

“I know, and I’m trying really hard to push all that away but I just...this was the last of that, I promise.” 

Eddie kissed him again, he found that he was getting better at it, if he did say so himself. 

“Come on,” he whispered, “the others are waiting for us.” 

Richie nodded, holding on to his hand tight. He waited for Eddie to stand up first, waited for Eddie to help him up, too, because his legs felt like jelly now. 

Slowly, they walked back to the car, hand in hand, quietly. 

They’d said everything they’d wanted to for now.

***

“Did it always smell this bad?” Richie asked loudly. 

The others turned to them, 

“You guys okay?” Ben asked. 

Richie nodded, 

“We’re good,” he said. 

Ben put his hand on Richie’s shoulder and smiled, 

“What’d we miss?” he asked. 

The others shrugged. 

They were at the edge of the dirt path, where the fence now stopped them. Though they had just been here not even a month ago, the road looked different. Whatever had left Derry when they’d killed It had changed every inch of the town, it seemed. They all turned to Stan and Eddie. 

“Why here?” Mike asked, finally. 

“Call it intuition,” Stan said, looking past all of them. His eyes were glossed over, focusing on something that wasn’t there. 

“We’re just...supposed to be here,” Eddie said. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed. 

“Something has been drawing us here this whole time,” Stan said. “Like...like a magnet. I’ve felt like I’ve needed to come back to Derry since I woke up and I don’t know why, but now…” 

“There’s clarity,” Eddie finished. 

“Clarity?” Bev asked. 

Stan and Eddie nodded, 

“I don’t know what’s there, but we need to go and find it,” Stan said. 

He looked at Eddie, finally, and they nodded at each other, some unspoken agreement between them. 

“So, what? You two are gonna jump in and we…?” Richie started. 

“You guys have to stay back,” Stan said. “Meet us at our spot, on the other side.” 

They all nodded. 

Except Patty. 

“No,” she said, firmly. 

Stan looked as though about to answer, but Patty cut him off, 

“We’re not doing this again. You’re not leaving us behind here. You wanna jump off this giant cliff? I’m coming with you.” 

She was already kicking her shoes aside, and shedding her jacket as Stan tried to protest, 

“Me too,” Richie said, taking his own jacket off. 

“Us too,” Ben said. 

“We can’t…” 

“Not again,” Richie said. 

“Together or not at all,” Patty said, decisively. 

Stan and Eddie looked at each other, but smiled, still. 

“Together, then,” Stan said. 

He held out his hand for Patty, helping her over the fence. Slowly, they all climbed over, their shoes and extra layers thrown to the side as always. 

“You guys, too,” Patty called out to them, her head turned back to them. 

They all looked at each other, but said nothing. 

“Together or not at all,” she repeated. 

They smiled back at her, 

“Together,” Eddie said. He grabbed Richie’s hand and led him over the fence. Richie squeezed his hand tight, and Eddie stopped. 

“Hey,” he said, softly, walking back to him, “I promised you we’d leave this town together, right?” 

Richie nodded, 

“And I’m keeping my promise,” he said. 

Richie smiled.

“Come on. I won’t let go, I promise.” 

Richie breathed a small sigh of relief and let Eddie lead him to the edge. 

Stan and Patty were first. He kissed her quickly, gripping her hand tight, 

“Ready?” he asked, quietly. 

“Ready,” she replied without a hint of hesitation. 

Eddie took Richie’s hand next, leading him to the edge. 

The others joined them, all standing at the cliff’s edge, holding hands. They gave each other one more look, one more nod of encouragement, and took one more deep breath. 

And on the count of three, they jumped together. 

For a brief moment, they were flying through the air, and Richie had never felt more alive. Their eyes were closed from the rush of wind on their faces, they hovered, it felt like, for a minute in the air, and all those memories came flooding back. Not just that summer, but the summers before. 

Each one saw the days they spent together as children, the days that sealed their bond, made them not just friends, but a family. 

For a moment, they felt like kids once more, and they were flying towards the water as they always had before, laughing and screaming and cursing as they got closer. 

On one side, Stan and Patty held on tight, yelling something unintelligible, but there was pure happiness behind it, no matter what they were saying. 

Richie squeezed his eyes shut, and squeezed Eddie’s hand tighter. Eddie’s hand still clutched in his, Richie felt invincible for a moment. 

This cliff, this water, that’s what it did for them. 

It made them feel invincible, like they ruled this world together and nothing was going to touch them now.

Finally, they hit the water hard and disappeared beneath it. Richie still couldn’t open his eyes and swam back up immediately. 

When he came back up, Eddie was gone. 

He splashed around, looking around him quickly, waiting to see Eddie’s head come up, to see Stan come back up, but nothing happened. 

“Where’d they go?” he asked out loud.

His eyes fell on Patty. He opened his mouth to speak, but she only nodded, brushing her hair back from her face. 

“Where are they?” he asked, frantically. 

“I don’t know,” she said, her own voice tinged with worry. “We hit the water and he was gone, I couldn’t feel his hand anymore.” 

“Eddie? Stan?” Richie yelled, looking around. 

He felt Patty’s hand on his shoulder,

“They’ll be okay,” she said, quietly, reassuring both of them. 

Richie trembled, horrible thoughts rushing over him all at once.

“But…” Richie started. 

Patty smiled, 

“They’re not leaving us this time, Richie,” she said, quietly. 

He relaxed, but only slightly, eyes darting around the water. 

“They’ll be okay,” he said, quietly. She nodded, smiling at him.

_ They’ll be okay, they’ll be okay _ he repeated to himself.

One by one, the others joined them, all looking around for Stan and Eddie. 

“Now what?” Patty asked. 

“We’re supposed to meet them over there,” Richie said, pointing to their old spot. 

“Let’s go,” she said.

The others followed, but Richie stayed put, floating in the spot he and Eddie had just hit, looking around him. A small smile curled at his lips.

His worry began to disappear.

They would come back.

He could feel it in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a long chapter but I feel like this is what i've been writing towards the entire time so please bear with me! just two more chapters!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I said everyone lives I really meant EVERYONE lives.   
It's time we brought back happy endings, in my opinion.

Richie played with his hands nervously, his glasses lay beside him. He and Patty sat together, both of them in the same spot, mentally, but neither one ready to say it. 

Bill paced in front of them, 

“Can you,” Richie started, sighing, “Bill can you…” 

“Stop moving, Bill,” Patty said, cutting in for him. “Please,” she added, curtly.

Bill stopped in place, 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, sitting down across from them. 

“It’s gonna be okay, guys,” Ben said. 

Mike and Bev had their backs to the others, skipping rocks on the water. 

They felt helpless, like there was more to do, more they could do, but they weren’t sure what. 

“Why would they come here?” Patty asked. 

“We came here a lot when we were kids,” Richie said. 

“But why today? What’s here for them?” she asked. 

“Water is healing,” Mike said. 

They turned to face him, 

“What do you mean?” Bev asked. 

“Water symbolizes a lot. Birth, cleansing, healing. It makes sense because...this is the last place we were happy. The last place we were really kids.” 

“Stan died in the bath,” Patty said, her voice shaking. 

“They both died in water,” Mike said. “Eddie died in the cistern, below it, Stan in the bath. Our lives tend to come full circle, don’t they?” 

“What do you mean?” Richie asked. 

“My parents used to say that there was probably something in Derry’s water that made this town so weird. Water was the foundation of this town, and it was always at the root of whatever troubles this town faced,” Mike said. 

He threw another rock onto it, watching it hit the water, one, two, three, four times, before he spoke again. 

“The water in this place always connected us to it. At least that’s what I think. Why do you think It always came out of the sewers?” 

“Cause it was a demon?” Richie offered. Mike chuckled, 

“Stan and Eddie died in water, so it would make sense their lives would return in it. They were connected to this water in a way we don’t understand. We can only hope that, when they come back, they’ll have some answers.” 

***

_ Eddie _

The water was freezing and the first touch sent him into shock. But below, he opened his eyes and could see clearly. 

This was not the water from the quarry, he knew as much. 

It was too clean, too clear, too blue.

It was too bright.

He took a deep breath and…

_ He could breathe? Down here?  _

He looked around quickly, but there was no sign of Stan around him. 

“Stan?” he yelled urgently. “Stan where are you?” 

As he turned, he could see where he was now. 

This was something he didn’t understand. 

He was floating in the water around him, but it did not touch him. He was still dry, could see and breathe as normal. 

Where was he? 

“This is the place where the lost return to me.” 

Eddie wanted to scream. The voice bellowed around him, but there was nothing else there except him. 

“You cannot see me, but I am very much here, Eddie.” 

Was it reading his mind? 

Finally he opened his mouth, 

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice trembling. 

“Maturin.” 

He paused, 

“The turtle?” he asked. 

The voice chuckled. 

“That is one form, yes.” 

“Why a turtle?” he asked. 

“I like them. I thought they were cute.” 

Eddie’s mouth hung open. 

“You have questions,” the voice said again. 

“Yeah...a lot.” 

“Of course you do.” 

The voice was calming. It was gentle and felt safe to him. 

“Where am I?” he asked again. 

“The lost place,” the voice said. 

“But I’m not lost,” he said. 

“Oh but you were. You were lost here.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You were killed and you returned to me here. But you were lost here.” 

“What about Stan?” he asked, immediately. 

The voice chuckled. 

“Stanley is safe.” 

“Where?” 

“On the other side of you.” 

Eddie looked behind him. 

“You cannot see him,” the voice said. “This is a task that can only be completed by yourself.” 

“Task?” Eddie asked. 

“To find yourself.” 

“So...you returned me?” 

“Yes.” 

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. 

“You were not ready to be here, Eddie,” the voice continued. 

“You still had so much life to live out there. It was wrong for me to take you in when I knew what was left.” 

“What’s left?” he asked. 

Eddie wandered through the space. Wherever he walked, the water did not touch him, but surrounded him instead. It was as though he was inside a bubble, safe from whatever was out there. 

“You are a man with so much more life to live, with much more love to give,” the voice said. 

Eddie nodded. 

“I have seen your heart, Eddie, and I know what you want.” 

“And what do I want, Maturin?” he asked. 

“You know it,” the voice replied. 

“To live your life without fear.” Eddie said it without thinking, as if the words jumped free from him, not knowing they were buried there somewhere deep within him.

Eddie stopped. He looked around him but found nothing but water. Truth be told it made him nauseous. He had never been good on boats. 

“Why can’t I see you?” he asked. 

“Why do you want to see me?” the voice asked. 

“So I know who or what I’m talking to. So I can understand what’s going on.” 

“You don’t need to see me to understand, Eddie.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you already know what you need to do. When you awoke, not even three days past, you knew where to go.” 

“To Richie,” he said, quietly. 

“I have seen your heart. It has guided you all your life, whether you knew it or not. It was always your strength. Search it, now, and you will find the answers you want.” 

Eddie closed his eyes again, and exhaled. 

“I want a life of love, a fearless life,” he said. 

“And now is your chance,” the voice said. 

“But I...I don’t understand. Why did you wake me up? Why not...why not Georgie?” he asked, suddenly. 

The voice laughed, and it a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t an evil laugh, but it still scared him. 

“Georgie Denbrough,” the voice said. 

“Yeah, why not him? Why’d you take him? Didn’t he have more life to live?” he asked. 

“He does,” the voice said. 

“So where is he?” 

“Do you know what brought you to this place, Eddie?” the voice asked. 

“Why?” he asked, growing irritated. 

“Because you are special. Each one of your friends is special. All seven of you, The Lucky Seven, isn’t that what you called yourselves?” 

Eddie nodded. 

“You all have something far greater inside you than you realize. It is why you were able to defeat Pennywise at all. Why you were able to hurt him when you were still children. You have a light inside all of you that shines bright and fights off the curse of this town.” 

“So what does that have to do with Georgie?” he asked. 

“Georgie Denbrough shines just as bright. He was only ever waiting for you all to come back.” 

“But we came back! 27 years ago we went looking for him, right when he disappeared! And he was gone!” Eddie yelled. 

“But the evil you defeated now has returned all lost things. Including you.” 

The voice began to fade and Eddie’s heart raced,

“Wait!” he yelled. “Explain that!” 

“Balance is always restored. Georgie Denbrough would not have survived in your world for those 27 years you were gone. This town would have eaten him alive.” 

“So...what? Is he back? Does he come back, too?” 

“You all came back to fight the evil that plagued this town. The Lucky Seven restored order to the world, and now order must be restored to The Lucky Seven.” 

“But what does that  _ mean _ ?” Eddie yelled. 

The voice faded, only echoes left around him. Eddie looked around frantically, for something-- _ anything _ \--that would explain all of this, when a small, unmistakable voice came from behind him, 

“Billy?” 

Eddie whipped around to find Georgie standing there. 

“Georgie?” Eddie whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Where’s Billy?” he asked again. 

“He’s home,” Eddie said, quickly, “he’s home, with all of us.” 

“Can I go home now?” he asked. 

Eddie nodded, smiling, 

“Yeah buddy, we’re gonna go home.” 

He walked towards Georgie, hand stretched out to him, 

“Bill’s waiting for ya, man,” he said. 

Georgie smiled and took hold of Eddie’s hand. 

A bright light shone in his face and Eddie shut his eyes, plunged back above water.

“What the--”

***

_ Stan _

Stan had grown used to this feeling of waking up taking big gulps of air. But instead of his bathroom, he was in water. 

His clothes were dry, his hair was dry, but he knew he was floating. 

A sick and twisted thought came to mind. 

_ We all float down here _ , he thought. 

“Eddie?” he yelled. “Eddie where are you?” 

“He is safe,” a voice boomed above him. 

Stan covered his ears, and crouched as though to protect himself from something coming towards him. 

“Where am I?” he asked. 

“The place where all lost things return,” the voice said. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Stan asked. 

The voice laughed, 

“Stanley Uris and his sharp tongue,” the voice said. 

“Who are you?” he asked. 

“You know who I am, Stanley,” the voice said. 

_ The turtle can’t help us now _ . 

He had said that before, thought it many times before, hadn’t he? 

“You have always carried me with you,” the voice said. 

“You’re the turtle,” he said, shakily, “Maturin.” 

“Yes I am.” 

“Why am I here?” he asked. 

“You know the answer to that.” 

Stan paused, 

“I woke up here. After I died,” he said. 

“The universe returned you to me, but it was too early.” 

“Too early?” he asked. 

“You have so much more life to live, Stanley,” the voice said. 

“What’re you talking about?” he asked. 

“I have seen your heart, and I have seen what life you are meant to live. It is not your time to return to me yet.” 

“What about Eddie?” he asked. 

“On the other side of you.” 

Stan looked around him, his mouth ready to call for him again, 

“You cannot see him,” the voice said. “This is a task meant only to be completed by you.” 

“What task?” he asked. 

“To find yourself.” 

“I’m already here.” 

“Look inside your heart, Stanley,” the voice said. 

“You’ve already seen it, so what’s the point?” he asked. 

“So that you may know what you want.” 

“Why don’t you just tell me that?” Stan asked. 

“You have always known it. It has always been in your heart, following you through everything you’ve done. What do you want, Stanley?” 

“A family,” he said without thinking. 

The answer came from him without his own knowledge. It was something that came from deep in his heart, something he had locked away years ago. 

“You came to me too soon, one month ago. I have seen the life you are supposed to lead, and it is one with a family, one with love, and one with hope.” 

“So what am I doing here?” he asked. 

“Seeking the answers you could not see in life.” 

“Explain,” he said. 

“You all have something far greater inside you than you realize. It is why you were able to defeat Pennywise at all. Why you were able to hurt him when you were still children. You have a light inside all of you that shines bright and fights off the curse of this town.”

“But...but I couldn’t fight it, that’s why I…” 

Stan trailed off, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

“You were wrong,” the voice said. 

“But I didn’t defeat Pennywise. The others did.” Stan’s voice began to crack, now. 

“But it was the love for you that fueled them. It was the pain they felt in losing you that guided them. You were with them, in spirit, and they were able to free this town of the evil that cursed it.” 

“But…” 

“You were not meant to be here so soon, Stanley,” the voice said. “You were meant to live a long, long life.” 

“What about Georgie?” he asked, a new edge to his voice. “Didn’t Georgie Denbrough have a long life to live? With a life and a family full of love?” he spat. 

“Georgie Denbrough would not have survived the evil in this town.” 

“So you kept him for 27 years?” he asked. 

“I kept him safe,” the voice said. 

“And now?” he asked. 

“Now I know he can survive in this world. You all did that for him. You all defeated the evil, and made the world a safer place for Georgie. For yourselves, and for others.” 

“So Georgie gets to come home?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’s the catch?” he asked. 

“Catch?” the voice repeated. 

“What’s the catch? What do we get in return? We get Georgie back, Eddie and I get to stay back, but what? We can never get our sense of smell back?” 

The voice chuckled, 

“Stanley,” the voice echoed, “there is no catch. Go, live your life, that is all.” 

“No, no, no, there’s always a catch,” Stanley continued. 

“No catch. I have returned you to the life you were always meant to live. There is nothing for you here. Your place is back there, with your family.” 

The voice began to fade, 

“Wait!” Stan called, running ahead, as if to catch whatever this was. “What about…”

“Billy?” 

The small, delicate voice stopped Stan in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around and saw the unmistakably bright yellow raincoat, 

“Georgie?” he asked. 

Georgie stood in front of him, just out of reach. 

“Where’s Billy?” he asked. 

“He’s at home, waiting for you,” Stan said, tears running down his cheeks now. 

“He’s gonna be mad, isn’t he?” Georgie asked. 

“No, no Georgie, he’s not gonna be mad,” Stan said, dropping to his knees in front of him. Water splashed around them, but it was solid ground beneath him, a fact that still made him shudder. “He’s gonna be so happy to see you.” 

His voice was weak, trembling, but all he could focus on was Georgie in front of him. 

“Do I get to go home now?” he asked. 

“Yeah, buddy, we’re gonna go home now. Together.” 

Georgie smiled, and held out a hand for him, but as Stan took his hand, a bright light flashed in front of him, and it felt like he was coming up above the water into fresh air and the sunlight once again. 

***

“How long has it been?” Patty asked. 

“Two hours and thirty three minutes,” Richie said without hesitating. 

Patty rested her head on Richie’s shoulders, 

“They’ll be back soon,” she said, quietly. 

As if on cue, Bev gasped,

“Guys!” Bev yelled. 

Out just beyond their reach, they could see two heads come back above water. 

Richie’s heart dropped as he and Patty jumped to their feet. 

Stan and Eddie came floating up, gasping for air, calling out for each other. It was like Richie’s dream, the one he’d only told Eddie about. Eddie appearing in the water of the quarry, surrounded by a soft glow. 

And so they were. They were both glowing and he knew it couldn’t just be the sunlight on them. No, it was more of a halo, a full body halo that illuminated them against the muddy green water of the quarry. A light that stood out to all of them from a distance. 

They splashed around in the water rapidly, calling for each other, looking frantically for the other. 

“Stan?” 

“Eddie?” 

“I’m right here!” 

“Oh god!” 

The two swam to each other and hugged, 

“Did you…?” 

“The turtle…?” 

“We’re back!” 

They both nodded, speaking in half-formed sentences, understanding something beyond words. 

“Georgie?” they asked in unison. 

They looked around them, and slowly, a smaller figure rose up above the water, looking right at them, glowing just as bright as them. 

“Hi guys!” he said, excitedly. No yellow coat to be seen.

Stan and Eddie pulled the youngest Denbrough into their arms, hugging him tight before pulling him to shore. 

“Wait…” 

Bill stood up now, watching them. 

“Is that…?” Mike started. 

“How…?” Bev whispered. 

“Georgie?” Bill yelled, his voice cracking. Georgie looked up, bright as day, real as the rest of them,

“Billy!” he shrieked. 

Bill ran straight into the water, splashing as he went, meeting the others just before the shore. 

“Georgie!” he yelled in tears, pulling him into his arms. 

“Billy I missed you!” 

Bill hugged him tight, Georgie’s galoshes wrapped around Bill’s waist. 

“How...how did you…” 

“I’m sorry I’m late, Billy,” Georgie mumbled. Bill shook his head furiously, 

“No, no I’m so sorry, Georgie. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I didn’t go with you. I’m sorry I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” 

Bill’s voice trailed off, rocking back and forth on his knees as he held Georgie close, Georgie’s own little arms wrapped tight around Bill’s neck. 

The others watched, none of them trying to hide their tears now. 

Slowly, and quietly, Stan and Eddie made their way back to the others. 

Stan surged forward and picked Patty up in his arms as he kissed her. 

“You came back,” she whispered into him. Stan hugged her tighter, 

“Not getting rid of me that fast, babylove,” he whispered back. 

Patty pulled back slightly from him to look at him. His soft curls had flattened from the water, his face glowing from a mixture of sweat, tears, and the disgusting water he’d just emerged from. 

But there was another unmistakeable light around him. He really was glowing, Patty thought. She’d seen this earlier, back at the Townhouse when they all huddled around Mike. She craned her neck to see Eddie running towards Richie and saw the same soft glow around him, too. 

They were glowing, all of them, right in front of her. She’d always known they were special, from the moment she’d met them, and today she finally understood something about this group. 

They shone the brightest when they were together. 

On the other side, Eddie ran towards Richie and pulled him into a hug so hard they were knocked off balance, falling back onto the rough gravel of the shore. Eddie lay atop him, smiling in relief, his eyes moving over Richie quickly, his mouth open as if to say something. 

Richie knew better, this time. This time there was no hesitation from him, and he closed the space between them and kissed Eddie hard. 

“Told you I’d come back,” Eddie whispered against his lips. 

Richie smiled. 

There was nothing he could say right now that would make his point better, so he kissed him again. 

After a moment, and the wince of pain on Richie’s face, the two tried to stand up, struggling to find their balance. Eddie looked around to see where the others had gone. Stan and Patty just ahead of them, holding each other tight. 

Bill still by the shore, holding Georgie tight in his arms. Bill was crying, his chin resting on top of Georgie’s head while Georgie’s face was tucked into the crook of his neck, his eyes shut, smiling softly, contentedly. 

Mike, Ben, and Bev huddled around them, kissing the top of Georgie’s head, holding Bill steady. 

They all joined them, and Georgie looked around with excitement, calling all of them by name, by memory, and the sweet sound of his soft voice made their hearts swell, their eyes tear up, all lost for something to say. 

They didn’t have to say much, though. This moment was better quiet, they thought. And suddenly they were on the same page, all of them, again. As they huddled around Bill and Georgie, soaking wet, eyes red and puffy from crying, they stayed there for longer than they could remember. In that moment, they were all shining.

Slowly, they gathered their things, and walked away from the water, holding on for their lives. 

But Eddie and Stan stopped for just a moment, and looked back out at the water. 

This one was still green and murky, but they knew better now. 

It was a silent  _ thank you _ before they left once and for all. 

They had been given their lives back. 

There was nothing left here for them. 

***

“So there was a turtle,” Mike said. His tone was completely level, looking at no one in particular. For all they knew, he could still be processing the information. His smile, on the other hand, spoke louder than his words, and the group burst out laughing. 

“Just wanted to point that out, remind you all that I was right. Again.” 

“We never doubted that, Mikey,” Ben said. 

“Well,” Richie started. Mike flipped him off, but still smiled, 

“But why a  _ turtle _ ?” Richie asked. 

“Told me it was cause it thought turtles were cute,” Eddie said. 

“That’s dumb,” Richie muttered. 

They were back in the townhouse, showered, changed, rested, and warm. For once, they all sat back with peace of mind they had not known in years. They were tired, no they were  _ exhausted _ but they couldn’t bring themselves to part. 

It turned out that, seeing Stan and Eddie disappear into the water was enough to put them all on edge, and none of them could bear to leave their sides now. They sat close, practically on top of each other. Patt lay with her head in Stan’s lap and Stan sat with his legs out. Eddie and Richie sat with the same musty blanket wrapped around them. Bev curled up on the couch next to Ben, and Mike on the floor next to Bill. 

Georgie lay asleep in Bill’s lap, curled up against his chest, wrapped in as many blankets as they could find. He had complained about being cold since they pulled them out of the quarry today, and Stan and Eddie knew better than the others what that felt like. They all watched the silent rise and fall of his chest, as if to make sure he was still there. 

It would take all of them a little while to get used to this. 

Hell, it would take Georgie even longer to get used to it, probably. 

“How do you feel?” Bev asked quietly, rubbing Bill’s shoulders, 

“Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” Bill whispered, still watching Georgie. 

They smiled. 

“So you both met God, today?” Ben asked. 

Stan shrugged, but smiled, 

“We met something,” he said. 

“So the turtle can help us, now?” Patty asked quietly. He looked down at her and nodded, 

“It did help us,” he said, quietly, running his hand through her hair. 

“What did you guys find out?” Mike asked. 

“Apparently we saved the world,” Eddie said. He was close enough to Richie that he could feel the reverberations of Eddie’s voice against his chest. He found that to be the most comforting feeling of all. 

“It said that we came to him too early. That...we still had so much life to live and it wasn’t fair to take us from that so soon,” Eddie continued. Richie’s eyes stayed on him as he spoke, smiling softly. He could see the slight color rise in his cheeks, and Richie swore his heart leapt. It was all so disgustingly romantic and he wanted so much more of it. 

“It also said that it was keeping Georgie until we could make it safe for him again,” Stan added. 

Bill pressed a kiss to Georgie’s forehead, brushing his hair out of his face. 

“Thank you,” Bill whispered. 

“It called us The Lucky Seven,” Eddie said. 

“We haven’t called ourselves that in a while,” Richie said. 

There was a collective murmur, each one of them remembering that name for their group. It was true that no one had referred to them as such in nearly thirty years, and the very sound of it felt like a warmth spreading over all of them.

“It said we had a light in us. Some special powers and that’s why we were able to fight Pennywise in the first place,” Stan added. 

“That makes sense,” Patty said. 

They all looked at her, confused. She only smiled, looking up at Stan, 

“I could see it. Back at Ben’s place, this morning when we were all here, and especially down at the quarry. You were all shining. Literal light coming off of all of you, like halos,” she said, softly. 

“So we glow, now?” Stan asked, smiling at her. 

“Only when you all are together,” she said. 

“So now what?” Richie asked. 

“Now...we get the hell outta dodge,” Stan said. 

“For good?” Bev asked. 

“For good,” Eddie answered. 

“What’re you gonna do, Bill?” Richie asked. 

“I’ve got a place out in Florida now,” he said, “gonna take him there and...I don’t know. See what happens.” 

“I know a guy who can get you official documents that look legit,” Richie said. 

The group turned to him, and for the first time in hours Bill tore his attention away from Georgie. 

“What?” Richie asked. “As far as Derry knows, Georgie’s been dead for 27 years, if Bill takes him to Florida he’s gonna need shit like a birth certificate, medical records, an adoption certificate? I’m just being practical here, guys.” 

“Who do you know that does this stuff, Richie?” Bev asked. 

“Don’t say you,” Stan added. 

“No it’s not me, but I’m flattered you would think I’d be that good at forging government documents, but no, I only do small stuff like driver’s licenses.” 

“Those are official government documents,” Ben said. 

Richie shrugged, 

“Yeah but it’s not as serious as like a birth certificate. You need someone really talented to do that, and unfortunately my talents only go so far.” 

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie asked, softly, looking at him confused. Richie winked at him, 

“I know someone who does this stuff, mostly worst case scenario types so he’ll definitely be able to help, and I’ll tell Bill and only Bill. My guy likes his privacy.” 

“How do I even begin to explain this?” Bill asked. 

“He doesn’t like explanations. The less he knows the better. If you have baby pictures that would be good, too. Basically anything that can prove that you didn’t just pluck this kid outta thin air.” 

“Or water,” Eddie teased. Bill smiled, still looking at Georgie, but they could tell he was unsure of something.

“He has a point, you know,” Stan said, looking at Bill. 

“Thank you Stanthony,” Richie said, genuinely touched by Stan’s agreement. Now it was Stan’s turn to wink at him. 

“You gonna say he’s your brother?” Eddie asked. 

“Might be easier if it was like, your adopted son or something,” Richie said. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Bill said, calmly. “But don’t forget to give me that guy’s number, Rich,” he added, quietly. 

Richie smiled at him, nodding happily. 

“So first thing in the morning we’re outta here,” Stan said. The rest of them nodded.

“Us too,” Bev said, looking up at Ben. 

Richie looked to Eddie, 

“So are we,” Eddie said, looking at Richie. 

“Is this the last time we’ll see you all?” Patty asked, quietly. 

“Not a chance, Patty cakes,” Richie said. She smiled at him, though he could see her fighting back tears. They all were at this point.

“Good,” Stan said, and Richie knew this was genuine. The smile on his face told him as much. 

“We’re not gonna forget this, now,” Mike said. 

“There’s too much worth remembering,” Bev said. 

“So we’ll all stay in touch? For real this time?” Ben asked. 

“Well you’re all going to have Thanksgiving with us,” Stan said, “so I hope it’s for real this time.” 

“We are?” Eddie asked. 

“Yes I just decided right now.” 

They all smiled and leaned in to ruffle Stan’s hair. 

“But not if you guys keep doing that,” he said, trying to move out of their reach, making Patty laugh out loud. 

“We’ll be there anyways,” Richie said. 

The rest of the evening was spent listing off reasons why they were so tired and how they needed to go to bed immediately, but not a single one of them moved. 

Instead, they all sat around in that living room for a little bit longer, thinking of just another story to tell, just another holiday to plan for. 

They kept finding reasons in each other to stay another minute, another hour, another three hours, until the sun finally came up. 

They were not tired for once. On the contrary, they had never felt more energized in their life. 

But as day broke over them, they began to stand up and crack their backs, and yawn, each of them slowly saying their goodbyes. 

Eddie and Richie were the last two left in the living room, huddled together under one blanket. 

“So where to first, Eddie?” Richie asked, resting his head on his shoulder. 

“You tell me,” he said, quietly, “where is Richie Tozier going next?” 

“Wherever you want,” he said, quietly. 

“Pick a place or we’ll be here forever,” Eddie teased.

Richie leaned in and kissed Eddie. 

He was never going to get enough of it, he thought to himself. 

“I’ve got some shows in LA I’ve cancelled four times,” Richie said. “Feel like seeing me make a complete fool of myself on stage?” 

Eddie smiled, scrunching his nose, 

“You have no idea how much I wanna see that,” he said. 

“Then LA it is,” Richie said. 

Eddie shook his head,

“Not just yet. Let’s take our time.” 

“I was thinking the same thing.” 

Eddie kissed him, and they both knew they were never going to get enough of this. They had gotten their lives back, they were going to make the most of it together. 

So for the last time, they all left Derry. They knew they would see each other again soon, but they still made sure to hug each other a little bit tighter, a little bit longer, and repeat their I Love You’s a little bit more than they needed to.

Because they really did need to. They were back together, but things were different now. They’d learned their lesson once, they weren’t going to make the same mistake of holding on to the words they wanted to say. 

Not this time around. 

Slowly, their cars left Derry for the last time, including Richie’s hastily rented van that made a strange coughing sound when he pushed it past 50. But as each car passed the town’s limits, a great sense of peace and relief came over them. Each one of them watched as the other cars veered off onto different roads, took different exits, took different paths. They separated on the road, but they knew better. This would be the last time they would see Derry, but it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. That much was for sure. The other thing that was for sure?

They were finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	15. Epilogue: The Lucky Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well hey! Look at that! I finished a whole ass fic!!

In the months that followed, their lives would continue to change drastically. None of which was helped by the intense media speculation on how Top Fashion Designer Beverly Marsh, Renowned Author Bill Denbrough, Award Winning Architect Ben Hanscom, and Emmy Nominated (later winner) Stand Up Comedian Richie Tozier all knew each other and how they were suddenly inseparable from an accountant from Atlanta, an Insurance analyst, and a small town librarian. 

When did Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom meet? And how were they already engaged? 

When did Bill Denbrough divorce actress Audra Phillips and begin dating the small town librarian? 

And how on earth could Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier meet and date a risk analyst?

On more than one occasion someone from Stan’s office would come up to him and ask him why she’d seen him on TMZ the night before hanging out with Richie Tozier. Stan would shrug and say “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Beverly would be asked why she was suddenly having lunches with Bill Denbrough and his partner when she had said not even two months prior that his books “weren’t her cup of tea”. 

She would smile and wave the question off. 

Richie didn’t need to be asked about his connection to any of them. He would offer that up without any prompting. He would go on his scheduled late night show circuits and spend the entire time talking about his friends from childhood, reconnecting with the man he loved, and coming out by way of his new standup. 

That answered most of the media’s questions, but it raised a hell of a lot more, at the same time. 

When Ben was asked about his and Beverly’s relationship, he would visibly blush and say that sometimes the person you’re meant to be with is the person you’ve been in love with since you were 13.

Their new favorite pastime would become reading the speculative buzzfeed articles and frantic twitter threads on how they were all connected. Their group text was littered with links and screenshots of public speculation and jokes and every single article the came across. 

Their favorite thread? An unknown twitter user with about fifty followers who connected all of them to Illuminati. The whole account, it seemed, was dedicated to all the weird shit that happened in Maine, so of course something weird had to have happened to bring this group of people together. It would take them a long time to find out Stan was behind it, which gave Stan enough time to enjoy every second of their speculation.

_ Bill, Mike, and Georgie _

Bill’s divorce had been finalized the first time he’d left Derry, but the new media speculation didn’t help things. Though Audra would have questions about how Bill’s baby brother, who she’d only seen in an old photo album Bill had, was back in his life, she chose not to push the matter. She thought about asking, but was afraid of the answer and left it alone. 

They were on their way to Florida now, but made sure to stop everywhere they could, taking pictures and making memories for Georgie. They took their time, and with all their belongings in the trunk, and Georgie in the backseat, singing along to the radio, the three of them built a family together on that trip. Bill, it turned out, cried too much to drive, so Mike took over for him while he spent more time in the backseat, an arm around Georgie the entire time. Their car ride was filled with old songs, car games, and conversations they never thought they’d get the chance to have. Bill thought to himself that there were years they’d missed out on together, and he wasn’t going to miss out on another second. One look at his phone could tell you that. He kept ignoring the ‘storage full’ message and continued to take picture after picture and video after video of Georgie living the childhood he was always meant to have. And even though Bill had been abysmal at social media, suddenly filled his instagram feed with pictures of the three of them. Georgie in front of every landmark they stopped at. Mike holding Georgie at his hip, showing him something just out of focus, a surprisingly good selfie Bill took of the three of them in front of the  _ Welcome to Florida _ sign. Every minute was worth capturing to him.

They moved in together in the suburbs of Florida, and together, they would raise Georgie like their son. And as far as the state of Florida was concerned, that’s what he was, Bill and Mike’s son. Bill would go on to write a few more novels and turn them into movies he was proud of, and one that Patty would actually read. He’d be lying if he said that wasn’t his goal, but Patty didn’t have to know that. He would claim that these stories weren’t inspired by the seven of them or by Derry, but it wasn’t hard to ignore the similarities each character had to one of them. Bill would vehemently deny it, but they all knew better. 

Mike would take another job as a librarian, this time in an elementary school, the very one Georgie was enrolled in. He would go on to publish a few books of his own, children’s books based on the stories he would make up for Georgie at bedtime, illustrated by Georgie, too. The first book would be dedicated to the Denbroughs. Bill would proudly display the first copy on their bookshelf, and spend his entire book tour talking about Mike’s book instead of his own, much to the dismay of his publisher. The second one would be dedicated to Stan and Patty and their kids, a book about a father going birdwatching with his kids. It would make Stan cry, and he would put it on the bookshelf for the kids

In October, they would be married in a quiet ceremony on a Saturday morning that was nothing more than a day trip to city hall, only to be surprised by the rest of the Lucky Seven standing outside the courtroom with balloons, flowers, and poppers. Mike would just shrug and say it was too hard to keep anything from them, now. And Bill would smile, holding Georgie on his hip, and tell them how grateful he was for all of them. On the bookshelf, next to Mike’s book, stand two pictures. One of Mike and Bill with Georgie between them, not looking at the camera, but all smiling at each other. The second of their entire group standing on the steps of city hall, also not looking at the camera, but all looking at each other and laughing. 

_ Stan and Patty _

Stan and Patty took the vacation they’d always planned on after leaving Derry. Two weeks in Buenos Aires, the others didn’t hear from them at all. Save for the occasional picture he sent, it was radio silence from them, and they all understood. They remarried, or just renewed their vows, depending on how you looked at it, and called Buenos Aires their second honeymoon. The others didn’t know this until they got a photo from Stan of him and Patty standing in a small chapel, showing off their rings. 

It took time to get back into the swing of things. To Patty’s horror and relief, no one around them seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. She went back to the old local newspapers where Stan’s obituary had been but couldn’t find his name anywhere. She even made it a point to go back to the cemetery where Stan’s headstone was, only to find that spot empty. It looked like it hadn’t even been dug up. Reassured by the groundskeeper who told her that spot was still vacant and asked her if she was looking to buy it. Patty would never be able to explain the relief she felt when she said she didn’t need it. 

She’d even called her mother, asking her if she remembered Patty saying anything about Stan in the past few weeks. Her mother only said “Nothing out of the ordinary, just that he’s been awfully tired lately and that you two were planning a vacation. Why?” 

Patty would say nothing else, and ask her to forget she’d mentioned it at all. 

She had mentioned it to Stan once, curious about how every trace of a man’s death could disappear like that. His response? That’s how things work when you come from Derry. The rest of the world seems a little off compared to that town. 

And so Patty pushed the thought away for good, and delighted in having Stan back at her side. At night, when Stan was asleep and Patty was still awake, staring up at the ceiling, her hand still held tight in his, she’d silently thank the turtle for giving her this chance again. It felt silly to think there was some benevolent turtle who’d brought her husband back to life, but she had to admit that he made a compelling case for his existence, just by the way she could hear Stan snoring beside her. 

In November, in their Thanksgiving invitation to the group (a very formal one that would take them all by surprise), Patty and Stan would send them all a small greeting card with a picture of a bird and a little bundle in its mouth. Stan’s neat script telling all of them that they were expecting. Twins, in fact! They all called together, and Stan could hardly get a word in through their excitement. Patty would only stay on the line long enough to hear the others congratulate them, and make a joke or two, before she would leave Stan to the rest of them. And when they all heard him cry on his end of the call, they would all jump to tell him how proud they were of him, and what a good father he was going to make. 

This would only be interrupted by the sudden conversation about which members of the group Stan would name his kids after, each one making a case for their name to be passed down to the coming Uris’. 

Stan would say that none of them were in the running, but nine months later, little Joshua Michael Uris and Sarah Beverly Uris would make their debut and put that conversation to rest. The others couldn’t even be mad because of how cute they were. On the Uris family picture wall is a picture of the two children with their namesakes, and the others would remark that those names were the perfect fit, in the end. They would also learn that they were all  _ very _ unprepared for twins. Sure, they were Stan and Patty’s kids, but did they really think the others  _ wouldn’t  _ be involved in raising them? 

_ Ben and Bev _

Beverly was happy to wake up next to Ben every morning, she thought. That was her favorite part of the day, waking up to see him first, and she always woke up first. She cherished those few minutes before he woke up when she would focus on the grey in his beard, or the silver patches of hair that grew at his temple, or run her thumb over his bottom lip, watching it turn up into a soft smile at her touch. 

Those were the moments where she forgot about the rest of the world, because her world was right there in that bed with her.

Bev’s divorce would go through in late September. And while Richie didn’t kill him as he’d offered, he made no attempt at holding back his feelings about him. His next standup special, one focused entirely on his ragtag group of friends from childhood, dedicated to each of them in the end credits, would have a seven minute bit about Bev, the same as the rest, and would tell everyone of how they grew up together, and how she truly was one of the most remarkable people he’d ever met, only to end it by calling out her ex husband and telling the audience he was a piece of shit. Publicly, Beverly Marsh would make no statement regarding this bit. In private, at the dinner they would all have to celebrate Richie’s special, she would kiss him on the cheek and tell him it was the best divorce present he could’ve gotten her. Ben would high five him.

She would leave behind the company with her ex husband. There was nothing left for her there and there was no point in hanging on to something that only reminded her of pain. It was also easier, in the end. It was one less thing they had to fight about in the divorce. She would take a break for a few months, nearly a year, giving herself the chance to regroup and figure out what she  _ really _ wanted. In the end, she and Ben would go into the house flipping business, taking on the worst case scenario projects wherever they could find them. It let them travel the country, bringing a little joy to places that reminded them of Derry every now and then. 

Ben’s architecture firm would be as strong as ever. He delegated most of the day-to-day work to his onsite staff, letting him enjoy his time with Beverly, now. Really, it was his excuse to get up every day and listen to Bev make plans of how to turn his dream house into their forever home. It wasn’t lost on him, either, how the house seemed to come alive after Bev moved in with him. The place looked brighter, felt happier, and looked more like a home than it ever did before. Her spark and her spirit were apart of the house now. It was no longer the architectural dream of a small town boy. It was the home he and Bev would build on for years to come. 

In November, two weeks before Stan and Patty’s announcement, Ben would plan a big, proper proposal for her. She’d already told him before there was no need. In a way, he’d already proposed. He’d picked out a ring right after they left Derry the first time, and though he’d shown it to her out of pure excitement, to make sure she approved of it, he knew he still had to propose to her the way he’d always imagined. If Bev tried to make wedding plans Ben would simply change the subject. They wouldn’t talk about it until he’d gotten down on one knee and asked her to marry him. So in November, the others would get a video from him leading Bev into a room full of candles and flowers where he would give the most beautiful speech any of them had ever heard, before getting down on one knee and properly proposing to Beverly Marsh. 

They all cried at the video, but gathered their composure long enough to call Ben and Bev on conference call and collectively congratulate the two.

Their group chat would be chaos after that, with incoherent messages, all getting lost in the mess that was the group planning the perfect wedding. Richie still insists on an Elvis Impersonator for the wedding, at one point offering to be the impersonator himself if they didn’t want to spring for one, no matter how many eyerolls it gets him. But Bev did humor him for a bit, the two of them secretly planning on how to work that into the full wedding. (It wouldn’t happen, but Richie would give his speech in an elvis voice that would make Bev laugh so hard she’d snort).

Instead, they would opt for a big traditional wedding, one that every magazine and tabloid would fight to cover. In the end, no major magazine would be invited to the wedding, they were both adamant about that. This was a friends and family only event. Bev would design her own dress, of course, as well as the tuxes for each of them, including Ben’s. The wedding would be extravagant and almost dream like, even with a small guest list. Each one of them would make a toast, for both Ben and Bev, their stories all mixing together, confusing the other friends and family sitting there. But it would be okay, because as long as they made Ben and Bev smile, laugh, and occasionally roll their eyes, it would be worth it. They would leave for their honeymoon almost immediately, a two-week vacation on an island somewhere none of them could find on a map, cut off from the rest of the world, taking the time to just enjoy each other, forgetting about everything else. 

And Bev would be happy to report that her dreams were pleasant than ever before. Most days she wouldn’t remember them after waking up, something she was grateful for, but she would only ever remember that they made her feel safe and happy. That she felt loved, even in those dreams. 

_ Richie and Eddie _

And as for Eddie and Richie, they would just decide to take their time. As they left Derry, Eddie would take the keys from Richie’s hands and ignore his protests and drive them out of town. Richie gave that up as soon as they were on the road, but he didn’t relax until he saw Derry’s sign disappear from the rear view mirror. 

In the following two months, Eddie’s divorce would also go through without a hitch, though Myra tried her hardest. The devil worked hard, but Myra somehow worked harder. Myra still refused to see him, but that didn’t stop Eddie from bringing Richie with him to every meeting with their attorneys. It made her angry, and Eddie secretly enjoyed making her angry for once. But it would be finalized just in time for Halloween, too, when Richie had planned a special standup set for their group. He’d invited every single one of them to the show, and made sure to save seven seats at the very front of the auditorium with each of their names printed on them. 

They all showed up, and in matching t-shirts, too, that read “Losers Since 1989”. Each one of them beaming up at Richie as he took the stage, and Richie would spend the first few minutes trying to gather his own composure after seeing their shirts, a surprise they’d saved just for him.

On Halloween, Richie would bring Eddie and the others to his show in LA, and introduce Eddie to the crowd as his boyfriend, and spend the next hour and a half talking about each one of them. He’d already planned for this to be filmed as his new Netflix Special, but at the last minute, and to the horror of his publicist, he would throw out the script his writers would hand him, and walk out on stage with nothing prepared, but with the Lucky Seven sitting in the front row, and that was enough for him. And sure, he had to take some liberties with the stories he told. He couldn’t exactly tell the crowd about the alien clown that went on a killing spree in 1989, or tell them they were the ones that killed it. But the jokes would land, nonetheless. He’d title it “Welcome to the Losers Club, Asshole!” He’d win an Emmy for it next year, and his speech would just be listing off each of the Losers and holding up his award, not saying anything, but making a weird noise that could only be described as ‘how about this, huh?’.

It would be during this time that they would move in together. Richie’s apartment in LA wasn’t much, but it was better with Eddie around. They would also learn that they were completely unprepared to be living together. The space that had once felt too big and too much for himself was suddenly filled with the 80s classic radio station songs at full volume on the weekends as they cleaned every inch of the apartment, and the smells of whatever food they tried cooking together that would always somehow end up burnt black and smoking. They would learn in time and Eddie enjoyed the uncertainty and messiness of living with Richie. 

Three months later, on New Year's day, Eddie would propose. He’d had a grand plan, something exciting and over the top and had even recruited Ben for help. But then Richie wanted to take a walk on the beach closest to Richie’s--no, scratch that,  _ their _ \--apartment. It was a spur of the moment decision, close to sunset, shoes in one hand, the other hand holding each other’s. Somewhere between their apartment and the beach, Eddie realized he didn’t need to make some grand gesture, that it wasn’t their style. Something about the way the last light of the sun was shining around Richie, reflecting off his glasses, casting a golden hue around them that Eddie realized this was the perfect moment. So Eddie asked him, casually, as if asking about his day or the weather. And Richie would stop in his tracks, mouth hanging open, for once without a clever reply, and he would stare at Eddie. Eddie would ask him again, smiling this time, his heart not beating as fast now. And Richie wouldn’t waste time, either, saying yes as many times as he could, sweeping Eddie into a kiss, still mouthing the word against his lips. And, as it turns out, Eddie may have been the one to propose, but Richie had the ring already. He’d picked it out a week after they left Derry for the last time. He didn’t want to waste anymore time, and he made sure of that. One month later they would be married in a small ceremony. Ben would officiate, Georgie would be ring bearer, and each one of them would make a slightly drunken speech, the gist of which was: They were all given a new lease on life, and it was time they left the past behind and looked to their futures, something brighter, something hopeful, something beautiful waiting for them ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who have read this nonsense as I posted it, i love you most ardently  
To those of you who have not only read it but commented on it as well, I propose marriage to you.  
Thank you so much for reading this and leaving kind comments and kudos and reactions and just clicking on it, it means the world to me!!!   
I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in class because my professor's voice puts me to sleep otherwise. Please let me know what you think! I don't know how many chapters it'll be just yet, but I'm excited for you all to see where it goes!
> 
> Title taken from the song "Never Gonna Let Go" by Shinedown  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0bTTgSHzbI


End file.
